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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 



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Fra Girolamo Savonarola. 



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SAVONAROLA 



The Florentine Martyr 




By EMMA H. ADAMS 

Author of "Fiji and Samoa," "To and Fro in Southern Cali- 
fornia," "Up and Down in Oregon and Washington." 




X C. 



PACIFIC PRESS PUBLISHING COMPANY 

OAKLAND, CAI,. 
SAN FRANCISCO, NEW YORK, AND LONDON 



DGr ^31 
■31 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1890, by 

Pacific Press Publishing Company, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 



CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER I. 
The Middle of the Fifteenth Century - - "7 

CHAPTER ir. 
The Monastery Comes into View - - - _ 14 

CHAPTER HI. 
Life in the Dominican Convent 22 

CHAPTER IV. 
Convent of San Marco 30 

CHAPTER V. 
Unexpected Fame - - -41 

CHAPTER VI. 
The Death of Lorenzo - 46 

CHAPTER VIL 
Reforms in San Marco 53 

CHAPTER VIII. 
In Italy — Paganism Everywhere - - - - .63 

CHAPTER- IX. 
An Event in Florentine History - - - - - 68 

CHAPTER X. 
Charles Enters Florence ------ 74 

(V) 



VI CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XI. 
The Great Preacher Becomes Political Adviser - - 79 

CHAPTER XII. 
Noonday in Florence ------- 87 

CHAPTER XIII. 
The Enmit}?^ of the Pope _-___. ^x 

CHAPTER XIV. 
Lent in Florence in 1496 ------ gg 

CHAPTER XV. 
The Carnival of 1497 - - - - - - -no 

CHAPTER XVI. 
Ascension Day — the Wrath of the Pope - - - 116 

CHAPTER XVII. 
The Trial of the Five Conspirators - - - - 122 

CHAPTER XVIII. 
Troubles with the Pope — Carnival of 1498 - - 127 

CHAPTER XIX. 
The Ordeal by Fire ..-.--- 137 

CHAPTER XX. 
The Fatal Palm Sunday 142 

CHAPTER XXI. 
Trial of Savonarola 147 

CHAPTER XXII. 
Domenico and Salvestro ' - 152 

CHAPTER XXIII. 
Savonarola arid His Friends Die - - - - - 155 



?Air®K;^B©LA7 



THE FItOHEHTlNE IWflSTYR. 
CHAPTER I. 




THE MIDDLE OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. 

ANY a time in human history has a 
brilliant dawn been preceded 
by a ''dark hour," gloomier 
than the midnight, — an hour 
when scarcely a star beamed 
through the dense fog of evil 
which enwrapped the world; 
when hardly a voice could be 
heard as the harbinger of the coming day ; when, 
in State affairs, in religious concerns, in social 
life, sin had so paralyzed the conscience of man- 
kind that the statement of the great apostle had 
become almost literally true: "They are all gone 
out of the way. . . There is none that doeth 
good. . . The poison of asps is under their lips. 
. . . Their feet are swift to shed blood." 

Sometimes at such gloomy periods the fog has 

(7) 



8 SAVONAROLA, 

suddenly drifted away, or the clouds have parted 
for a moment, and through the rift the light of a 
radiant star has illumined the earth for a short time, 
but only to render the darkness more apparent. 

Emphatically, such an hour of darkness was the 
middle of the fifteenth century. It was the dreary, 
melancholy closing of the long night of the Dark 
Ages, during which professed Christianity held the 
corrupting hand of heathenism, and the two walked 
amicably together — ideally one. 

And, emphatically, such a lustrous star, shining 
but for a moment of years through the temporarily- 
parted clouds,was Girolamo Savonarola, the subject 
of this sketch. 

Nevertheless, in some respects that hour of deep 
moral gloom was an era of unsurpassed glory and 
magnificence. It was a day of splendid triumphs 
in art, of illustrious achievements in scholarship, of 
amazing displays of wealth and power on the part 
of the church, — such display as only a corrupt 
church, closely allied to a corrupt state, could 
exhibit. It was not the setting forth of brotherly 
love, of tender patience, of the peerless truth, all 
through grace divine. Princes and prelates vied 
with each other in oppressing the people. Both 
heartlessly robbed them. Both kept them quiet 
and uncomplaining with spectacles and amuse- 
ments, while they did so. The money wrung 
from them painted the immortal pictures, chiseled 
the enduring sculptures, filled the great libraries, 
reared the noble churches. 



MIDDLE OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. 9 

This dark hour symbolizes the reigns of the Popes 
Sixtus IV., Innocent VIII., and Alexander VI., at 
Rome — the rallying-point for all the wily priest- 
craft of the earth ; and the rule of Cosmo, Lorenzo, 
and Pietro de Medici, at Florence — then the center 
of art and learning in Italy. Of that era one has 
remarked: ** Italy, then, was the most corrupt por- 
tion of Christendom." Another has added: ** The 
external garb of society was elegance. The condi- 
tion of its heart was rottenness." 

It was the day of Bartolommeo, foremost of 
Florentine painters ; of Baldini, the inimitable illus- 
trator of Dante ; of Michael Angelo, in whom 
painting, sculpture, and architecture were almost 
personified, and who "chiseled marble furiously," 
during the very days, when Savonarola, using the 
sword of truth, endeavored to shape anew the 
hearts of the Florentine multitude. 

Most inaptly was that period called " The Era of 
the New Learning," or '' The New Birth of Learn- 
ing; " for in fact the mightiest efforts of all its men of 
genius were put forth, only to infuse new life into 
the old paganism, and to render its glory the more 
effulgent by robing it in the dress of Christianity. 
The " new learning " was simply greater devotion to 
pagan authors and artists, and an intensified desire 
to make larger collections of their works. 

At the same time, unhappily, it was an age when 
lords and kings made much of the church. All 
espoused her cause ; all wanted to live within her 



lO SAVONAROLA. 

pale. But they were there, as men dead in tres- 
passes and sins, hardly with names to live. Virtu- 
ally, they were heathen. To escape the scourgings 
of conscience, they flatly denied what the word of 
God so clearly asserts, a judgment after death. Of 
all this, what was the outcome ? — Just what we 
should expect, — men, professing to be the children 
of God, in order to secure the power, the position, 
the wealth, they coveted, committed the most atro- 
cious crimes. ' Not long did lordly nobles, or even 
titled priests, hesitate over the sacrificing of a human 
life, which intervened between themselves and ends 
they desired. 

Thus, it was at an epoch when the titled classes 
had reached the extreme of greed and rapacity, and 
when the humble ranks were benumbed through 
spoliation and repression, that Savonarola stepped 
upon the scene, like a shining figure out of the 
black night, holding aloft for a moment the blazing 
torch of truth, and loudly warning all who said, 
"God doth not see," that vengeance was drawing 
nigh; and that done, suddenly extinguishing his 
torch and withdrawing into the night. 

But who was Savonarola? 

In the gay city of Ferrara, the capital of a. prov- 
ince of that name, in Italy, on September 21, 1452, 
was born Girolamo Savonarola, just thirty years 
before the birth of Martin Luther. But let us, 
before entering upon his life and work, acquaint 
ourselves with the once illustrious city in which 



MIDDLE OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. I I 

Savonarola spent the first twenty-three years of his 
life. 

About the beginning of the thirteenth century, 
the city and province of Ferrara became the posses- 
sion of the powerful Est6 family, which retained 
control of it until 1495 — ^three years before the death 
of its famous citizen, Savonarola. During the last 
century of the Este government, Ferrara contained 
one of the most cultured courts in all Italy. Its 
name will be forever associated with much that was 
purest and best in Italian literature. In a street of 
Ferrara, still bearing his name, stands the house in 
which dwelt the poet Ariosto. The famous poet 
Tasso wrote and was imprisoned there. Other dis- 
tinguished authors first drew breath in the proud 
little capital. Some of the princes of Este were 
generous patrons of learning. In 1498, Pope Alex- 
ander VI. included the province of Ferrara in the 
papal States. 

In the very center of the city — its population one 
hundred thousand — is located the old ducal palace. 
It is surrounded by a deep moat, and crowned by 
frowning battlements. 

Anciently, Savonarola's family lived in Padua; 
but about 1440, his grandfather, Michele Savon- 
arola, removed to Ferrara, being invited thither by 
the third prince of Este, who was distinguished as a 
patron of literature and the arts. Nicholas, a son 
of Michele, was the father of Girolamo Savonarola, 
one of the most gifted, and to-day one of the most 
eminent, characters in Italian history. 



I 2 SAVONAROLA. 

His mother, Helena Anna Buonaccossi, was from 
a notable old Paduan family, and was a woman of 
strong character, of kindly heart, and was devoted 
to her famous son. In all the dark and terrible 
hours of his life, she was his unfailing comfort. 
Many letters still extant evince the tender love 
existing between mother and son. 

Authentic details of Savonarola's boyhood are 
scanty, and are of little interest. He is represented 
as having been a reserved and serious youth, not 
fond of amusements, but delighting in solitude and 
charmed with learning. As a boy he loved to wan- 
der along the banks of the Po, reading Arab com- 
ments upon Aristotle, and the works of Thomas 
Aquinas, a Dominican theologian of remarkable 
philosophical attainments. 

To a degree quite beyond his age, the young 
Girolamo understood the subtle reasonings of the 
schools. His grandfather, a physician of rare 
understanding, guided the boy's early reading, but 
quite in the line of his own profession, as the high- 
est hope of his parents, with reference to his tem- 
poral good, was to see him adorn the pursuit of his 
grandfather, who, both in Padua and Ferrara, had 
become eminent as a physician and as a professor 
of physical science. But he died — at the age of 
seventy-nine — while as yet Girolamo had made little 
progress, and left him to the tuition of his father, 
who appears to have been really unequal to the 
task. 



MIDDLE OF THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. 1 3 

The boy had now arrived at the age of ten, and 
was a pupil in the pubHc schools of Ferrara. In that 
day the study of Aristotle and the works of Thomas 
Aquinas was considered a necessary preparation 
for any profession. And soon the lad was master 
of them. Aquinas was his favorite, and day after 
day was whiled away in meditation upon his teach- 
ings. 

Thomas Aquinas, or Thomas of Aquino, was 
born about 1226, and died March 4, 1274, at the 
early age of forty-eight. 

The highest honors the Catholic Church could 
bestow were accorded to his memory. Pope John 
XXII. placed his name in the calendar of the 
saints. Thomas Aquinas has been designated as 
"the spirit of scholasticism incarnate." Of his age 
— decidedly one of subtle study rather than one of 
active Christian work — he was its blazing, central 
star. 





CHAPTER II. 

THE MONASTERY COMES INTO VIEW. 

HIS man, then, was the entrancing author 
upon whose speculations and reasonings 
young Savonarola fed daily. So absorbed 
in them did he become that he turned with great 
difficulty to other more important studies. Never- 
theless, to live the truth in its purity, for its own 
sake, was even then his highest aim. " Young as 
he was," writes one, " he turned in disdain from 
writers who, in the name of truth, set forth only 
their own opinions." Such books he was accus- 
tomed to lay aside with the remark, " They do not 
please me." Thus was formed a habit of close 
study and of careful reasoning upon a subject 
which, in after years, was of exceeding value to 
him, particularly when obliged to discuss difficult 
and controverted points with men of trained minds. 

Yet the day came when Savonarola looked back 
upon the years he had devoted to that sort of study 
as time thrown away. Referring to the subject 
after his mind had become illumined by the word 
of God, he was heard to say : — 

" I was then in the error of the schools. I studied 
with great assiduity the dialogues of Plato. But 
(14) 



THE MONASTERY COMES INTO VIEW. 1 5 

when God brought me to see the true light, I cast 
them away. Of what avail is Plato," he would 
ask, " when a poor woman, established in the faith 
of Christ, knows more of true wisdom than does 
he?" 

There was little promise that young Savonarola 
would adopt the arduous, practical life of a physi- 
cian, when he constantly turned away from the stud- 
ies needful to the profession. And we are not sur- 
prised to find that, as time rolled on, there sprang 
up a vehement conflict between his own inclinations 
and the wishes of his parents; nor that very soon 
he abandoned all thought of thus spending his life. 
But to what vocation would he turn instead ? We 
shall see. 

Savonarola was far from being an ascetic. He 
was capable of great devotion to a friend. His 
heart beat in warm sympathy for those around him, 
particularly for the oppressed. And very painful 
to him was the collision between his own tastes 
and the plan of his parents for him. But more and 
more, on account of its wickedness, did the world 
become repulsive to him. He possessed an innate 
love of purity, and was painfully alive to the cor- 
ruption of the age. 

The Palace of Este, always a delightful resort for 
the merry citizens of Ferrara, held out no attrac- 
tions for the youth. Once, in company with his par- 
ents, he had joined the throng there; had walked 
through its splendid saloons, while he knew that 



1 6 SAVONAROLA. 

underneath, in dismal dungeons, lay human beings 
living out years of death. Above, could be heard 
the voices of music and laughter; below, the clank- 
ing of chains and the groans of the tortured. The 
effect of his reflections upon this condition of things 
was most dispiriting. " Sad and weary he left the 
gay halls to weep alone over the misery he could 
neither end nor alleviate." His parents could never 
again induce him to pay the Palace of Est^ a visit. 

About this time, perhaps, or when about nine- 
teen, there occurred an event which, added to 
many other considerations, must have hastened his 
conclusion as to how his life should be spent. In 
the neighborhood of his home, there resided a fam- 
ily by the name of Strozzi, exiles from the city of 
Florence. To a daughter of the household he be- 
came ardently attached. But, upon declaring his 
regard, he was disdainfully informed that no Strozzi 
would condescend to marry a Savonarola. Bitterly 
did he resent the affront. He had believed her to 
be a true woman. But he had learned otherwise. 
His disappointment was in time overbalanced by a 
sense of her demerit. 

Two years passed away now, years of misery 
and mental conflict. The period was one of keen 
self-distrust. He could not feel that either his un- 
happy disappointment or his dislike of the hypo- 
critical world were genuine qualifications for a relig- 
ious life. What, therefore, was he to do ? Into 
what path should he turn? Who would help him 



THE MONASTERY COMES INTO VIEW. 1/ 

to decide? Fortunately, he turned to the right 
source for help. His constant prayer now was, 
** Lord, teach me the way my soul should walk!" 

Savonarola now diligently studied his Bible, to- 
gether with his beloved Aquinas, and "for recrea- 
tion," says one biographer, ''played mournful airs 
on the lute, and wrote verses in which he poured 
forth the sorrows of his heart." For example, in 
his poem entitled "De Ruina Mundi" — "The De- 
struction of the World" — written in 1472, he thus 
laments : — 

" The whole world is in confusion ; every virtue 
has disappeared ; no shining light is to be seen ; 
none are ashamed of their sins. Had it not been 
for my confidence in the overruling providence of 
God, I should have been driven to despair by the 
aspect of affairs." The sight of *' scepters passing 
into the hands of pirates, of Religion turning her 
face earthwards and crawling amid earthly loves 
and cares," was more than he could bear. 

It was about the same period that he wrote: 
''There is still a hope which does not entirely 
abandon me : that is, that in the other life it will 
be clearly seen whose soul was gentle and kind, 
and who elevated his wings to a higher style." By 
this "higher style" did he mean a religious life in 
a monastery? a life which now began to appear to 
the devout student — as it did not very long after to 
Martin Luther — the very gate of heaven ? asks one 
who wrote without prejudice of Savonarola. 
2 



I 8 SAVONAROLA. 

Day by day, life in a cloister seems to have gained 
upon his regard, though he never mentioned the 
subject to his parents, understanding perfectly how 
serious would be their objection to it. But con- 
science urged it. In no other way — in the Italy of 
that period — did it appear possible to devote him- 
self to the service of God and the welfare of his 
fellow-men. Thus did young Savonarola reason. 
And not long after, a sermon preached by an 
Augustinian monk enabled him to settle the matter 
beyond reversion. He listened to this sermon in 
Florence, in 1474, and appears to have accepted 
what he heard as the answer to his oft-repeated 
prayer, *'0 Lord, teach me the way my soul 
should walk ! " It was but a *' single word " he 
afterward said, which decided him, but what that 
single word was he never divulged. 

Harassed no longer now by indecision as to his 
vocation, Girolamo returned to Ferrara. But as he 
approached his home, he was overwhelmed with 
sadness at the prospect of leaving it forever. Par- 
ents, friends, everything he held dear, thronged his 
soul. Thereafter for days followed a mighty con- 
test between the flesh and the spirit. In vain did 
he try to conceal his trouble. The quick eye of his 
mother detected grief which had not been confided 
to her, and which for that reason was all the more 
difficult to bear. Never before had he hidden from 
her a single joy or sorrow. And now her look of 
tender questioning he could not endure, and dared 



THE MONASTERY COMES INTO VIEW. 1 9 

not trust himself to meet again. Therefore, for an 
entire year the young man so controlled himself as 
not for a moment to recall that irresistible look from 
his mother. 

Long afterward he said, speaking of that struggle : 
" Had I then laid open my whole mind to my mother, 
I believe my heart would have broken. I should 
have renounced my intention of becoming a monk." 

On the 24th of April, 1475, Girolamo's life in the 
home of his boyhood came to an end. The even- 
ing preceding, while sitting beside his mother, 
playing melancholy strains on the lute, she sud- 
denly exclaimed, " My son, this means that we are 
soon to part! " Appearing as though he heard 
her not, Savonarola continued to play, but with a 
trembling hand, and without lifting his eyes to her 
face. Next day there occurred a great holiday in 
Ferrara — the festival of St, George. Immediately 
after his parents left the house to attend the cere- 
monies, Savonarola bade the place a silent adieu 
and departed for Bologna. He was then twenty- 
three years of age. 

His exalted regard for Thomas Aquinas, "the 
glory of the Dominican order," induced Savonarola 
to become a Dominican monk. Consequently, 
upon arriving at Bologna, he went directly to the 
Monastery of St. Dominic. Feeling that the most 
menial office within its walls was better than he 
deserved, he prayed to be admitted simply as a serv- 
ant, that he might in that capacity "do penance 
for his sins " — nor was it with the expectation then 



20 SAVONAROLA. 

SO usual in the minds of men entering such institu- 
tions, of soon passing from the secular occupations 
of the place, to the more congenial ones of the 
cloister. 

Having now taken the important step — how im- 
portant he then but faintly conceived — Girolamo 
was confronted by a most painful duty. He must 
write his father and mother and account for his 
sudden flight. He realized profoundly that his 
absence had filled their home with sorrow. To 
explain his leaving was an easy matter. But how 
could he justify it? How could he comfort the 
heart of his mother, so strongly bound to him ? 
One thing he could do. He could acknowledge 
that his own pain at parting from them had been 
grievously acute. Besides, he could write with 
absolute candor as to his motives. So, the first 
night, before he laid himself down upon his com- 
fortless pallet, he wrote his parents with all the ten- 
derness of his loving heart, *' not wishing another 
sun to rise upon the home he had left forever " 
until he had done what he could to mitigate the 
grief therein. 

In this letter he made no attempt to justify his 
course, but rather endeavored to lead his parents to 
take a lofty view of the life before him, of its peace 
and usefulness. He says: "My hope is that the 
wounds will soon heal and be followed, even in this 
world, by the consolation of God's grace, and in the 
next, by glory." The letter bore the date, Bologna, 
April 25, 1475. In it Savonarola referred to a tract 



THE MONASTERY COMES INTO VIEW. 21 

which his father " would find upon the books in the 
window." 

Its title was "The Wickedness of the Times," 
which he claimed were like those of Sodom and 
Gomorrah. And in it, as if to him the veil of the 
future were already drawn aside, he said: *' But 
already we see signs of famine, and pestilence, and 
inundations, which will proclaim God's wrath." 
Then he implores : " Part again, O Lord, the waters 
of the Red Sea, and drown the wicked in the waves 
of thine indignation!" 

His father found the tract, and upon it penciled 
these sad but cutting lines : *' I remember how, on 
the 24th day of April, which was St. George's Day, 
in the year 1475, my son Girolamo, then a student 
of arts, being intended for the medical profession, 
left our house, went to Bologna, and entered the 
Dominican Convent, intending to remain there and 
become a monk; leaving me, Michele Savonarola, 
nothing but these writings." These lines paint in 
most vivid colors the icy desolation of the father's 
heart. No end of similar trials, and countless 
greater ones, have been caused by the monastic in- 
stitutions of Rome. 

Until recently this tract was believed to be lost. 
It is considered valuable, because, from the very 
dawn of his distinctively religious life, Savonarola 
believed he saw severe judgments impending over 
Italy. And it also faintly hints the hope that to 
him might be committed the noble mission of re- 
forming the shockingly backslidden church. 




CHAPTER III. 

LIFE IN THE DOMINICAN CONVENT. 

^T us follow Savonarola to the monastery 
at Bologna, that we may learn how men 
who have voluntarily renounced the 
world in which God has placed them, in order to 
live lives of special sanctity and good works. Here, 
as in many situations, we shall discover that some 
things are not as attractive as they seem. 

Savonarola entered the convent at Bologna, ac- 
companied by one Ludovico, a young member of 
the order, to whom had been intrusted the secret of 
his flight. The monks welcomed him cordially, 
and although he came making no pretensions, the 
superior soon discovered his qualifications, and al- 
most immediately appointed him instructor of the 
classes in philosophy and physics. Savonarola 
accepted the office with regret. But he regarded 
prompt obedience as a prime evidence of true spirit- 
ual life, and so at once yielded to the call of duty, 
and thereafter,, with unflagging energy, labored for 
his pupils. 

A sketch of Savonarola's manners and personal 
appearance at this time will help us to better under- 

(22) 



LIFE IN THE DOMINICAN CONVENT. 23 

stand the impression he made at twenty-three. He 
was of medium height, of dark complexion; had 
luminous brown eyes, which sparkled and flamed 
under heavy black brows; had a large mouth and 
prominent under lip, which coul-d express great 
tenderness, or wonderful power and determination. 
As a whole, his face, though thin, was rendered 
beautiful by a singular expression of benevolence 
and gentleness, which it ever wore. In manners he 
was very simple and natural. His speech, una- 
dorned and almost rude, gave no hint of the 
splendid oratorical power which slumbered within 
him. He possessed an extremely delicate nervous 
system and "a temperament almost always allied to 
genius." It is said there is not a portrait of the man 
in existence that is not extremely ugly. 

Girolamo's main authorities in teaching were his 
beloved Aquinas, St. Augustine, and the Holy 
Scriptures. The latter he had to an unprecedented 
degree committed to memory. Of the Old Testa- 
ment prophets and the book of Revelation he was 
extremely fond. To have studied the Bible with 
the young men in his charge, and through belief in 
its truths have led them to God, would have been 
his delight. Like Wyclifife at Oxford, years before, 
he found his pupils utterly ignorant of God, and 
that they infinitely preferred Aristotle to the Script- 
ures. Moreover, he was compelled, as he said, to 
devote hours daily "to lecturing upon mere vani- 
ties." 



24 SAVONAROLA. 

As a first step upon entering the convent, Savon- 
arola received the habit of the order, and a change 
of name. His full name being Girolamt) Maria 
Francesco, the prior withdrew merely the two mid- 
dle names, leaving the first to recall the memory of 
the early church father, Jerome. From the day 
he entered upon the new life, the young monk rig- 
idly kept the three vows of the order — chastity, 
obedience, and poverty. So correct was he in every 
respect that the eminent ecclesiastic, Sebastiano da 
Brescia, who was for many years Savonarola's con- 
fessor, declared that he believed he had never com- 
mitted any marked sin. His simple, unfeigned 
humility toward his brethren — a rare virtue in the 
convent — drew all hearts. 

Outside of his class-room, where oftentimes his 
manner was so fervid that his pupils were awe- 
struck, he conversed but little; yet when he did 
speak, his words, flowing from a heart full of love 
toward God and man, charmed and profited his as- 
sociates. There was not a trace of hypocrisy about 
him*. He was absolutely true to the life he had 
chosen. 

Indeed, in austere living the new monk far ex- 
ceeded his brethren. Soon so emaciated was he 
by fasts and vigils that, as he glided through the 
cloisters, a shadow rather than a man seemed to 
have passed. He allowed himself but short inter- 
vals of sleep. Only after long and painful vigils did 
his worn frame seek rest on a sack of straw and a 



LIFE IN THE DOMINICAN CONVENT. 25 

blanket. All his earthly goods were a few articles 
of clothing, and one or two religious books. Not 
because he preferred want and discomfort did Sa- 
vonarola adopt this austere mode of life, but because 
it was the apparent spirit and practice of his order. 
He sought, also, by this complete withdrawal from 
worldly indulgence, to obtain closer communion 
with God. Simply as a means to this end was Sa- 
vonarola an ascetic, "toiling to bring his heart and 
conscience into rest and peace with his divine 
Father." 
The very opposite of an ascetic, Savonarola had 

a keen appreciation of the comforts of home, and 
of the beautiful in everything. He adorned his 
lectures and embellished his sermons with the lovely 
things of Scripture imagery. Any object that 
would set forth the beauty of the church as he 
loved to think of her, was eagerly employed — 
precious stones, white robes, crowns of life, palms 
of victory — anything. And he would have made 
home attractive by every adornment that was chaste 
and refining, everything that would win from the 
unclean world without. 

Savonarola entered the convent expecting to find 
himself associated with only good and pure men. 
Could he have anticipated less ? Had not the 
inmates — to a man — voluntarily renounced the 
world, and everything the human heart holds dear, 
in order to devote themselves to God? But did 
Girolamo find such companionship? — Far from it. 



26 SAVONAROLA. 

If the vice and pleasure-seeking of God-forgetting 
Ferrara had so grieved him, how must he have felt 
when he found the same iniquities flagrantly prac- 
ticed beneath the hood and cowl ? In vain did he 
seek at Bologna one such man as his imagination 
had pictured. Everyone gave evidence that he was 
living far from God. 

Amazed at these discoveries, Girolamo wept bit- 
terly. It has been asserted that at no period since 
the birth of Christ had the civilized world been in 
so degraded a condition. History has recorded the 
shameful lives of the Popes — Sixtus IV., Innocent 
VIII. , and Alexander VI., in whose reigns Savon- 
arola lived. Their vices and crimes, together with 
the miseries they entailed upon the people, con- 
stantly weighed down the spirit of the serious 
young Dominican. 

Added to this, he was sorely distressed over his 
obligation to teach secular learning instead of the 
divine word. With a heavy heart he performed 
the task, endeavoring always, as he said, to " light 
up his lectures with the simplicity of Christian faith, 
and to avoid vain and useless questions." 

When free to choose his subject for private study 
he turned eagerly to the word of God, and ever 
found it the water of life to his thirsty spirit. Soon 
after entering Bologna, Savonarola wrote the poem 
" De Ruina Ecclesia" — "The Destruction of the 
Church" — which strikingly indicates his line of 
Scripture study during those early disappointing 



LIFE IN THE DOMINICAN CONVENT. 2J 

days, it being replete with references to the Apoca- 
lypse. It is expressive also of burning indignation 
against the monstrous corruptions of the church, 
and breathes the most acute sorrow over the calam- 
ities threatening Italy. 

The special work assumed by the Dominican 
order was " the preaching the gospel to the faith- 
ful scattered abroad." And in 1478, three years 
after his glad reception at Bologna, Savonarola was 
elevated to the office of preacher, a post for which 
his deep spirituality and his rare knowledge of the 
Scriptures eminently qualified him. Yet of his 
sermons during the next four years nothing is 
known, not even what impression they made upon 
the brethren of his order. About that time, how- 
ever, one thus writes of him personally: ** His voice 
was harsh, his gestures were awkward, and his 
language ungraceful." 

In January, 1482, after a residence of seven years 
at Bologna, the Dominicans dispatched him on a 
mission to the church in Ferrara. One's natural 
inference would be that now must his visits to the 
paternal fireside have been frequent, and commun- 
ion with his early friends have been revived. Noth- 
ing could be farther from the truth. He Was 
seldom seen in the abode of his parents, and in the 
homes of his old associates, never. Savonarola 
vainly imagined that by thus crushing out the 
affections God has implanted in the human heart, 
he should the more successfully preach truth and 



28 SAVONAROLA. 

righteousness. In Ferrara his pulpit labors at- 
tracted little attention. This he lamented, remark- 
ing to his mother, **A prophet is always without 
honor in his own country." His sermons evinced 
high intellectual power, w4th great refinement of 
thought, and doubtless could not be appreciated 
by the frivolous Ferrarans. 

That same year a fierce war broke out between 
Venice and Ferrara. The former, taking the lead, 
besieged the gay capital of Este, dividing all Italy 
into two hostile parties, according as the provinces 
took side. The strife continued two years, when, 
by treaty, peace was restored. Ere the conflict 
really began, most of the Dominicans in Ferrara 
were ordered to leave their convent, Savonarola 
being sent to Florence, the city in which he reached 
the height of his brilliant career and which wit- 
nessed his martyrdom. 

Bidding farewell to his parents and to Ferrara 
forever, he crossed the Apennines, and upon arrival 
in Florence, ''went direct to the convent of San 
Marco." 

Florence, the capital of Tuscany, lying on both 
banks of the Arno, was at that period one of the 
most corrupt cities in all Europe. The rich and 
powerful family of the Medici, fond of the arts, not 
less fond of display, and lavish in its contributions 
to the gay municipality, was the head of the gov- 
ernment, and at the zenith of its popularity. Lo- 
renzo de Medici, "The Magnificent," then in control 



LIFE IN THE DOMINICAN CONVENT. 2g 

at Florence, was the third generation from Giovanni 
de Medici, the founder of the house in 1426. His 
eldest son, Cosmo de Medici, was the grandfather 
of The Magnificent, Pietro I. being his father. The 
grandfather was the Astor of his age. He pro- 
moted commerce in Florence, and was a great patron 
of letters and philosophy. The grandson, Lorenzo, 
inherited his tastes and his ducats, and under his 
sway Florence enjoyed, outwardly , her golden days. 
In its fine libraries and galleries of splendid paint- 
ings, the capital of Tuscany retains to-day some- 
thing of its glory in the fifteenth century. The 
Uffizi Gallery contains masterpieces of those princes 
of art, Raphael and Titian. The Pitti collection 
embraced the finest works in the world. Its three 
large and valuable libraries are the resort of writers 
from almost every land on the globe. The Lau« 
rentian Library, attached to the convent of San 
Lorenzo, was once renowned as being the largest 
collection of books and manuscripts in Europe. 





CHAPTER IV. 

CONVENT OF SAN MARCO. 



HE Convent of San Marco, situated near the 
gate San Gallo, in Florence, was long the 
most powerful monastery in Tuscany. A 
part of the extensive pleasure-grounds which sur- 
rounded the building in Savonarola's day, is now 
used as a botanical garden. Early in the fifteenth 
century the convent was almost in ruins, and was 
notable only for the infamous character of the 
monks who inhabited it, and who belonged to the 
order of San Sylvestro. 

In 1436 one of the Medici — probably the elder 
Cosmo — obtained permission of the Pope to remove 
these monks and to place the structure in charge 
of the Dominicans of Lombardy. Thereupon the 
convent was immediately rebuilt, and as the years 
went by, was enriched and beautified by the Medici 
family. Within it Cosmo founded the first ''public 
library opened in Italy," and in a short time the 
collection rivaled that of the far-famed library of 
San Lorenzo. 

From all quarters of Italy now came scholars to 
consult its rare volumes, and- to study the elegant 
paintings and frescoes which embellished the church 

(3c) „ . ^ 



CONVENT OF SAN MARCO, 31 

and convent. The greatest works of Fra Giovanni 
di Fiesole were executed expressly for San Marco, 
where the heavenly-minded artist long wept and 
prayed. Of Fiesole's conceptions, radiant with an- 
gelic beauty, the great Michael Angelo once said: 
" He borrowed them from heaven to enrich and 
elevate the earth." His crowning work, " The Cru- 
cifixion," now adorns the ancient chapter house of 
San Marco. 

Most of Fiesole's exquisite ideas were painted 
upon the walls of San Marco, while along its cor- 
ridors and in its friars' cells was traced the sacred 
story of Christ's birth and death, by other hands as 
highly skilled. The "Announcement of the Sav- 
iour's Birth," by the brush of Cavallino, is con- 
sidered wonderfully beautiful. ' 

With Fiesole — well known as Fra Beato Angel- 
ico — painting was an act of religion, an expression 
of the faith, hope, and love which filled his heart. 
We are informed that it was his constant habit to 
ask the blessing of God upon his work before he 
began it, that it might be in some degree not un- 
worthy of Him for whose glory it was attempted; 
and that whenever he felt an inward assurance that 
his prayer had been granted, he considered himself 
not at liberty to deviate in the slightest degree from 
the inspiration he had received. 

Fiesole painted only sacred scenes, and "never 
for money." Any Florentine who desired a work 
from his brush had to apply to the prior of the con- 



32 SAVONAROLA. 

vent, and from him Angelico received the order. 
Many a visitor to San Marco has been impressed 
by the expression of sympathy in the faces of the 
by-standers in AngeHco's pictures of "The Crucifix- 
ion," " The Entombment," and ''The Taking Down 
from the Cross." But at this, one is not surprised, 
when he learns that often when at work upon these 
scenes, Fiesole wept as if present at them. It is the 
artist's intense sympathy with Christ in his suffer- 
ings, which gives those pieces their remarkable ef- 
fect. 

The equally eminent Bartolommeo, influenced by 
Savonarola's lofty life, entered San Marco two years 
after his death, and exerted his genius in adorning 
the building wherein the martyr's final years had 
been spent. In its refectory hangs a picture by the 
famous Girlandajo. In the nave may be seen the 
celebrated " Crucifix," from the brush of Giotto, 
the first to give to the face of the dying Saviour an 
expression of holy resignation, instead of a look of 
mere physical agony. 

These grand works of the old Italian masters 
have always drawn lovers of art to San Marco, and 
more especially since within its cloisters linger 
precious memories of the great Dominican monk. 
His cell, of two chambers, and larger than most of 
the others, remains nearly in the same condition as 
on the day he went forth from it to torture and to 
death. There were many who loved the gifted 
man, and found comfort in preserving his chair, the 



CONVENT OF SAN MARCO. 33 

couch SO often wet with his tears, the robes he laid 
aside, and his portrait, taken years before, when to 
paint Savonarola was almost the highest opportu- 
nity an artist could enjoy. 

Shortly after his martyrdom, the following in- 
scription was placed over his cell as an evidence of 
the love his convent bore him: *'That apostolic 
man, Francesco Jerome Savonarola, occupied these 
cells." How this inscription escaped the destructive 
hand of his enemies — the Medici — is a mystery. 
It has been suggested as a reason that the man's 
republicanism, demanding the utmost sacrifice of 
his worldly interests, was altogether too unattract- 
ive to induce many to espouse its principles. Hence 
such reminders of him could do little harm. 

Savonarola delighted in true art as thoroughly as 
did the Medici, and at San Marco his refined tastes 
were fully gratified by the paintings and sculptures 
within the convent, by the lovely flowers blooming 
about him as he walked around its grounds, or by 
the charming scenes which opened to his view. 
Taking seat in some secluded spot, he would take 
his psalter from his pocket, and turn its pages un- 
til he found a text for every scene and object. Thus 
everything declared to him the glory and love of 
God. He was delighted. He feasted upon the 
truth , upon the exquisite things at every turn, and 
hoped that at San Marco he should find the purity 
and the peace for which he longed at Bologna. 

But did he ? Could he, as he came to know them, 
3 



34 SAVONAROLA. 

trace in one of his brethren the image of the self- 
denying Christ? For his sake they professed to 
have renounced the world. Were they striving 
to be like him ? — Not one of them. His name was 
seldom, if ever, on their lips. In not one of them 
reigned his spirit. Pained to the depths of his soul, 
Savonarola once more shrank from association with 
brethren false and hasting into every evil path. 

"A feeling of scorn, almost of disgust, for secu- 
lar study arose within him." He would ask him- 
self: To what good, to what right purpose, has it 
ever tended ? Of what value is Aristotle, this pros- 
tration to paganism, which renders the cross of 
Christ distasteful ? With such thoughts and feel- 
ings he found not one to sympathize. He could 
induce not one to study the Scriptures with him. 
So entirely was the word of God, particularly 
the Old Testament, neglected, that a monk much 
respected in San Marco, once gravely asked: 
''What possible good can be derived from the 
knowledge of events so long since accomplished ? " 
But this ignorance in a mere monk need not sur- 
prise us, for long after, Rome, through Pope Leo 
X., boasted that *' the fable of Jesus Christ had 
served the church in good stead." 

In Lent, 1483, Savonarola preached his first ser- 
mon in Florence. The attempt was an utter failure, 
so his audience deemed. The sermon was given in 
the church of San Lorenzo. Great things had been 
expected of the new preacher. His learning and 



CONVENT OF SAN MARCO. 35 

piety had been widely heralded. His graceful fig- 
ure and expressive face promised to attract. But 
how harsh and repelling were his tones ! how un- 
cultivated his gestures ! how dry and scholastic his 
style ! At his third sermon scarcely five and twenty 
persons occupied the vast nave of the church. 

During the same Lent, there was preaching at 
Florence, in the church of Santo Spirito, a great 
favorite of the Medici — Marriano Gennezzano — a 
speaker of " sonorous voice, choice sentences, and 
noble language." To him now flocked the crowds, 
and San Lorenzo was deserted. Yet at the present 
day, while public interest in Savonarola is greatly in- 
creasing, Gennezzano is remembered only as a man 
who, a few years later, did his utmost at Rome, to 
accomplish the downfall and death of the great 
Dominican. 

*' Elegance of language must give way to simplic- 
ity in preaching the truth," averred Savonarola. 
Yet most keenly did he feel his unpopularity. It 
was a trial which would have crushed him utterly 
but for his profound consecration. Sometimes the 
thought entered his mind that he had better con- 
fine himself to teaching the novices in San Marco, 
but the very next moment it was rejected. "Preach 
against the widespread iniquity of the church he 
must. Silent he could not be." He would over- 
come his defects. If not, he would rise above them. 

Deeply reflecting over all these things, he earn- 
estly prayed that God would use him as an instru- 



36 SAVONAROLA. 

ment for purifying the church, and sometimes ex- 
claimed : "Are not the Florentines, like the Heb- 
rews of old, ungrateful, rebellious ? Shall I not call 
them to repentance?" But the lively Florentines 
turned deaf ears. 

About this time Savonarola developed a new- 
phase of character, or of faith. He had come to 
believe that disclosures of future events were made 
to him by the Lord. One day, while conversing 
with one of the friars, there appeared to him a scene 
in which the heavens parted before him, and gazing 
into their depths, he read the dire declaration that 
wrath had been decreed by the Lord against Italy 
and the church, and as he stood awestruck, a voice 
in the distance bade him declare to the people the 
vision he had seen. Profoundly impressed, he ex- 
claimed : " Oh, that my voice could reach to the 
ends of the earth! " 

During this year, 1483, occurred the death of 
the corrupt Pope, Sixtus IV. His successor was 
Innocent VIII., whose election well-nigh produced 
schism in the church. In morality, he was no im- 
provement upon his predecessor. Soon, at his 
court every class of iniquity flourished. A writer 
of that day, contrasting the ghastly vice of Italy 
with the purer life of Northern Europe, affirms : 
** The nearer a people lives to the court of Rome, 
the less religion it has. Were that court set down 
among the Swiss, who still remain pious, they too 
would soon be corrupted," Upon reading these 



CONVENT OF SAN MARCO. 37 

v/ords, Guicciardini remarked: ''Whatever evil may 
be said of the Roman court must fall short of the 
truth." 

As the days grew darker in the experience of the 
church, Savonarola mourned, fasted, and prayed the 
more devoutly. Prostrate before the Lord, he 
bathed the altar steps with tears. Most opportunely 
for him, he was now sent to San Geminiano — a 
mountain village not far away — to preach the Lent 
sermons of 1484. More at ease among the simple 
peasantry, Savonarola candidly said: '' I declare it 
upon the authority of Scripture. The church will 
be scourged, then regenerated, and speedily." This 
was his first utterance of the kind ; but later, in the 
Duomo at Florence, they were often reiterated, not 
simply upon the "authority of Scripture," but as a 
direct revelation from God to himself 

A missionary occasion called the earnest monk 
to Lombardy in i486. Here, at Brescia, he 
preached the Lent sermons. Now every vestige of 
infirmity in utterance had vanished. With a voice 
of thunder he aroused the souls of men. Thousands 
were soon upon their knees in the church. Moved 
by his vehement words, they pressed toward the 
pulpit. Then, *' leaning over the desk, he spoke to 
them words which made them weep and tremble, 
and ever after lived in their memory." 

As on many former occasions, his text was from 
the Revelation. Oppressed by the frightful con- 
dition of Italy, by the sins of both clergy and 



38 SAVONAROLA. 

people, he could preach of nothing but approach- 
ing judgment. In tremulous tones he foretold that 
ere long Brescia would be attacked, that blood 
would flow through its streets, that parents would 
be seen weeping for their children and for each 
other. He assured them that some then living 
would witness these scenes, and perhaps even those 
listening to his warning. Himself awed by his 
words, Savonarola paused, raised himself in the pul- 
pit, looked around upon the stricken people, and 
called upon them to repent; to turn every one to 
the Lord, who would abundantly have mercy. 

To the people, from that hour, Savonarola was a 
prophet of God. He knew it; and by prayers and 
fastings more frequent, strove to be worthy of the 
high vocation to which he truly believed God had 
called him. 

After that day, twenty-six years, Brescia was in- 
volved in war. Six thousand of its citizens lay 
dead in its streets, slain by the merciless troops of 
Gaston de Foix. Of the surviving inhabitants some 
there were who recalled the prediction uttered by 
that impassioned monk, Girolamo Savonarola, in 
i486, and who twelve years after "had joined the 
great army of martyrs." 

Four years Savonarola passed in Lombardy,^- 
years of steady preparation for the following few 
years of work and victory. In January, 1490, he 
preached at Genoa during Lent, and thence re- 
turned to Florence. On the journey to Genoa he 



CONVENT OF SAN MARC . 39 

wrote his mother a letter filled with expressions of 
tender love. We condense it, unwillingly, for our 
pages. 

*' Honored Mother : The peace of Christ be with 
you. You must be surprised that I have not 
written you for many days. It has not been for 
want of thought for you, but for lack of a messen- 
ger. I met with no one going from Brescia to 
Ferrara until one of our own people arrived here 
after the Feast of the Nativity, with whom I was so 
much engaged that, to my great regret, I quite for- 
got to write. I can well imagine that you have 
been in much tribulation, and so far as my frailty 
will allow, I pray to God continually for you. I 
know not what more I can do. Could I help you in 
any other way, I would do so. >I have voluntarily 
given myself to be a slave for the love of Jesus, who, 
for love of me, took the part of a slave to set me 
free. I am bound to use the talent he has given 
me, in the way most pleasing to him. I fear his 
condemnation were I to do otherwise. 

"Be not, therefore, displeased, my most dear 
mother, if I go far from you, and if I go about 
preaching in various cities. I do it for the salvation 
of souls, and not for any other object. Moreover, 
I am sent by my superiors to perform that work. 
You ought, therefore, to take comfort, that God has 
elected one of your offspring to so high an office. 
It is a calling for which I cannot be too grateful. 
Therefore, my most honored mother, grieve not on 
my account. 



40 SAVONAROLA. 

"I thought to send but a few lines, but my love 
has made my pen run on, and more than I had 
thought of doing I have laid open my heart to 
you. Know then, finally, that more than ever, my 
heart is fixed to devote soul and body, and all the 
knowledge God has given me, for the salvation of 
my neighbors ; and as I cannot do it in my own 
country, I do it elsewhere. 

'' This day, as soon as I have dined, I proceed to 
Genoa. Pray to God that he may lead me thither 
in safety, and enable me to bring forth fruit among 
the people. Remember me to my uncle, aunt, and 
cousins. May the grace of God be with you, and 
keep you from all harm, for the love of our Lord 
Jesus Christ, Amen. 

" Written in Pavia on the day of the conversion 
of St. Paul, the apostle. Your son, 

"Frate Hieronymo Savonarola." 





CHAPTER V. 

UNEXPECTED FAME. 

)Y invitation of Lorenzo, The Magnificent, Sa- 
vonarola returned from Lombardy to Flor- 
ence in 1 49 1. His recall was at the entreaty 
of Prince Pico della Mirandola, famous for 
his learning at the early age of twenty-three, and one 
of the most noble men of that age. The two young 
men had met not long before at a Dominican counsel 
held at Reggio. Fascinated with Savonarola, from 
that hour until the day of his own early death, he 
remained the unswerving friend of the fearless and 
peerless preacher. We are constrained not to pro- 
ceed with this narrative until we have pictured to 
our readers Savonarola as he appeared in that coun- 
cil at Reggio. 

Owing much to wearing fasts and vigils, his bod- 
ily presence was at first sight little calculated to 
attract attention. As he sits apart from his breth- 
ren, he is but a grave and gentle-looking monk. 
See, his frame is fragile. His hands are so emaci- 
ated that, held before the light, they are quite trans- 
parent. Yet the face, with cowled head rising 
above the black mantle and the white tunic, is 
striking. The eyes of unearthly brightness, and 

(41) 



42 SAVONAROLA. 

shaded by long lashes, are soft but penetrating. 
Now he rises to speak. All eyes are drawn to him. 
In every gesture, every movement, beams forth the 
spirit in the man. His countenance becomes radi- 
ant. His eyes dart flashes of lightning. His elo- 
quence is like a torrent. His intellectual power is 
princely. His warnings are like thunder-bolts. 
"From that day the soul of Pico was knit to that 
of the speaker, in bonds which death alone could 
sever." Is it any wonder then that we find the 
gifted prince urging Lorenzo de Medici to invite 
the wonderful monk to Florence ? 

Ripened in thought and purpose, Savonarola re- 
sumed his lectures in lovely San Marco. To his 
surprise he was famous. Prince Pico had heralded 
his coming. That was sufficient. Learned Flor- 
entines begged permission to attend his lectures. 
In the cloister garden, among the damask roses, 
the once rejected monk now explained to them his 
choicest book — the Revelation. His audience in- 
creased day by day. Soon the garden could not 
hold the half who came to hear. They then be- 
sought him to lecture from the chapel pulpit. He 
repHed, ** Pray to the Lord for me." A few days 
later he stated to the people: "To-morrow I will 
speak in the church. There will be a lecture and 
a sermon." 

On that " to-morrow" the church was crowded. 
It was August I, 1491. With the crucifix in one 
hand and the Bible in the other, Savonarola en- 



UJNKXfEC'l'ED FAME. 43 

tered the pulpit. Deeming himself called as by a 
voice from heaven, he preached with the authority 
of a prophet of the Lord, and proclaimed an impend- 
ing crisis in the church. Everything, he affirmed, 
" tends to that end — the measure of iniquity, full to 
overflowing, the appalling moral condition, the 
neglected doctrines of truth, displaced, even in the 
minds of the clergy, by fables of astrology and 
soothsaying." 

The excitement caused by this sermon was in- 
tense. And yet Savonarola was not elated. The 
next discourse might be uttered only to empty 
benches. Of all places Florence was most fickle 
and ungrateful. Remembering this, and wishing to 
perpetuate any good his sermons might contain, he 
resolved to publish them. Previous to that date 
few had been preserved; but of those preached be- 
tween that time and his death, a large number re- 
main. Savonarola himself called this first sermon 
preached in the church of the convent, "a terrible 
discourse," and while delivering it, he predicted, so 
we find, that he should preach eight years. He did; 
and then followed torture and martyrdom. 

His hearers multiplied by thousands, and soon 
the great speaker deserted the convent chapel for 
the ampler audience room of the Duomo — the 
church of " Santa Maria del Fiore." There he again 
declared in tones of absolute assurance: "The day 
of vengeance is at hand. The chastisement will 
be inflicted, that Italy and the church, purified in 



44 SAVONAROLA. 

the furnace, may rise to a holy and happy state." 
The people, fascinated, awe-struck, eagerly listened. 
Then, choosing the right moment, and lowering his 
voice, he spoke tenderly of mercy exercised in the 
midst of judgment. Pausing now, he kissed the 
crucifix, pressed it to his heart, and in accents most 
gentle and loving, directed them to Him who died 
that penitent sinners might live. 

"For seven years from that day, Savonarola was 
master both of the pulpit and people in Florence." 

His popularity alarmed Lorenzo. Five eminent 
Florentines were sent to him to recommend lan- 
guage less exciting. "1 am fully aware," said Sa- 
vonarola, "that you have been sent to me by 
Lorenzo. Return to him, and tell him from me to 
repent of his sins, for the Lord spares no one, and 
fears not the princes of this world." "Take care," 
rejoined one of the messengers, "that your bold 
words do not bring you into exile." ''Do you 
threaten me with banishment?" returned Savona- 
rola. " Go, tell Lorenzo that though I am a stranger 
and he the first man in Florence, it is I that shall 
remain, and he shall depart." That startling utter- 
ance was prophetic, as we shall soon see. 

One year had Savonarola been in Florence when 
he was made prior of San Marco by Lorenzo de 
Medici. It was customary for him who received 
this appointment to pay his respects to its giver. 
The new prior refused to concede to the custom, 
saying : " I regard God as the author of my elec- 



UNEXPECTED FAME. 45 

tion. Let us, therefore, go into the chapel and re- 
turn thanks to him." Lorenzo was highly incensed. 
He broke out : — 

" See, now, here is a stranger come into my 
house, who refuses to visit me ! " And yet open 
hostility was not the fruit of the prior's independ- 
ence, Lorenzo preferred to win him by other 
means. He sent an official to enrich the alms-box, 
and himself took walks in the beautiful convent 
grounds, hoping incidentally to meet the dauntless 
man. Savonarola perceived his intent and remained 
in his cloister. Little did the Medici then imap-ine 

o 

that he had invited to Florence, in the person of 
this preacher, one who would prove a relentless 
enemy to the house of Medici. He could not 
but respect the man. He was too strong to resist. 
So, himself breaking in health, he left Savonarola 
to pursue his high mission, and all the more as he 
perceived that the Florentines, mightily influenced 
by the prior, were drawn from the senseless amuse- 
ments he had provided, to the services of religion. 




CHAPTER VI. 

THE DEATH OF LORENZO. 



HE year 1492 saw the most illustrious of 
the Medici pass away. At Careggi, three 
miles from Florence, Lorenzo owned a de- 
lightful villa. Here, in April, ill in bed, he realized 
that he was about to die. Little thought had the 
great patron of art ever given to preparation for 
eternity. None of his treasures were laid up in 
heaven. But they enriched the libraries and art 
galleries of Florence. Of the lofty spirituality of 
the Christian religion he had no conception. He 
believed in future retribution for the wicked. Fac- 
ing that future now, he trembled exceedingly. 

Many a time had he done what the word of God 
forbids — oppressed the widow, the fatherless, and 
the poor. Like specters, now stood all these deeds 
before him. The Catholic Church had indeed 
taught him that all the evil he had done was amply 
"justified by the necessities of his position." But 
in this trying hour conscience did not seem to agree 
with the church. He therefore desired the guid- 
ance of someone who would not swerve from the 
truth. He knew of but one such man in the church. 
(46) 



THE DEATH OF LORENZO. 4/ 

That man was the independent prior of St. Mark's. 
For Savonarola, therefore, he sent, saying to the 
messenger : " Make haste. Delay not." 

Did the prior now refuse to call upon the prince, 
as when he had received from his hand the appoint- 
ment to San Marco ? — No, truly. Assured that 
Lorenzo lay at the door of death, and that he de- 
sired to see him, Savonarola started instantly for 
Careggi. Arrived at the villa, he found sitting at 
the bedside of the duke the noble Prince Pico, the 
loyal friend of both men. The prince at once with- 
drew, leaving the dying Medici and the priest to- 
gether. Turning to Savonarola, Lorenzo said there 
were three things which oppressed his conscience, 
and for which he desired to be forgiven. These 
were: The cruel destruction of Volterra, the ap- 
propriating to himself monies intended as marriage 
portions for the daughters of its citizens, and the 
shedding of innocent blood in Florence after the 
Pazzi conspiracy. 

Savonarola immediately spoke to him of the ten- 
der compassion and mercy of that God whom he 
had offended, and then added: " But, three things 
are necessary before you can hope for the pardon 
of your sins." ''What things, father ? " asked Lo- 
renzo, steadily searching the friar's face. " In the 
first place, it is necessary that you have a strong 
and lively faith in God." Lorenzo answered : "That 
I have, most fully." " In the second place, it is ab- 
solutely essential that you restore, or leave direc- 



48 SAVONAROLA. 

tions to have restored, all that you unjustly took 
away." 

That was a terrible demand. Lorenzo hesitated 
a moment, and then assented by a movement of the 
head. " Lastly," continued the priest, " you must 
restore liberty to the commonwealth of Florence." 
How severe was this condition Savonarola fully 
realized, and with intense anxiety awaited the an- 
swer. None ever came. "Lorenzo turned his face 
to the wall and remained silent." Savonarola re- 
turned to San Marco leaving the prince unabsolved. 
April 8 witnessed his death. 

Florence greatly lamented him. Why ? — He had 
most abundantly enriched her; most liberally 
amused her. All Italy regarded his death as an ir- 
reparable loss. Why ? — Because learned men, lovers 
of art in every province, had felt the magic influence 
of his liberality. Not long before the death of The 
Magnificent, Savonarola had predicted it, in the 
presence of three distinguished Florentines, together 
with that of Ferdinand, king of Naples, and of 
Pope Innocent VIII. Lorenzo and the Pope had 
already passed away, and January 23, 1494, King 
Ferdinand also fell asleep. 

The death of the Medici and of the Pope, so soon 
following the prediction, — Innocent died July 26, 
1492, — joined to the fact that before his death Lo- 
renzo had sent for the friar, and also to the marvel- 
ous circumstance that the latter had refused the 
prince absolution, were occurrences which mightily 



THE DEATH OF LORENZO. 49 

increased the popularity of Savonarola, and unfort- 
unately opened the way for him to act his part in 
the political scenes about to take place. 

Lorenzo was succeeded by his son Pietro de 
Medici, whose distinguished incapacity for govern- 
ment rendered him unpopular from the first. And 
very soon there was formed a party opposed to him, 
and chiefly of men who in the days of Lorenzo 
were steadfast friends of the Medici. 

Let us now glance at Italian affairs outside of 
Florence. Through certain political combinations, 
which we need not mention in detail, and above all, 
through the extremely corrupt character of Pope 
Alexander VL, successor of Innocent VIII., matters 
began to grow very dark all over Italy. As the 
gloom deepened, many recalled to mind that just 
such a time of woe had been foretold by " that 
saintly preacher, the prior of San Marco." This 
wonderfully added to Savonarola's fame. The sul- 
len events themselves had the effect to rivet in the 
depths of his soul the conviction that the gift of 
prophecy had been vouchsafed to him. More and 
more then did the pages of the Old Testament 
prophets furnish him food for thought. 

While preaching an advent sermon, during that 
lowering time, he beheld the heavens part asunder, 
and, as if suspended in the air, a hand grasping a 
drawn sword, upon which was inscribed, " The 
sword of the Lord upon the earth, and speedily." 
As. he gazed, dumb with awe, gentle words fell on 
4 



50 SAVONAROLA. 

his ear,' "Mercy would be mingled with judgment 
for all the penitent." Then, in sterner tones, the 
voice threatened " sure and terrible doom for all the 
hardened." Then suddenly the sword was turned 
toward the earth ; the air grew dark ; there fell 
showers of swords and arrows mingled with fire; 
famine desolated the earth, and fearful thunders 
shook the ground. The vision then vanished, and 
a voice charged the monk to tell the people what 
he had seen and heard, that they might repent, and 
in the day of the Lord's vengeance find shelter. 

The year following the death of Lorenzo, Savon- 
arola preached the Lent sermons at Bologna, at- 
tended by one Fra Basilio, Avhom he styles his much- 
loved son. Among the crowds who came to hear 
was the wife of the Lord of Bologna. Always late 
and attended by a retinue of ladies and gentlemen* 
she much disturbed the services. On several occa- 
sions Savonarola quietly paused until they w^ere 
seated. But finally, becoming weary of the inter- 
ruptions, he one day said, ''My lady, you would 
please God and give me great satisfaction by com- 
ing earlier hereafter." Her ladyship's next attend- 
ance was with still greater pomp and noise. Then, 
as she proceeded to her accustomed seat, the 
preacher, forgetting for a moment the value of self- 
control, said, " It is the devil come to interrupt the 
worship of God." 

Infuriated, the woman ordered two of her attend- 
ants to seize him on the spot. Prudence forbade such 
a step, and no one moved. Determined, however, 



THE DEATH OF LORENZO. 5 1 

to take his life, she that evening dispatched two men 
to the convent where he tarried, to assassinate him. 
The porter, suspecting their errand, declined to 
admit them, and informed Savonarola of their pres- 
ence and of his own fears. "Admit them," replied 
he ; '' my trust is in God." 

Having entered, the men stood mutely gazing at 
him. "What is your business?" calmly asked the 
friar. Overcome by his serene manner, they inaptly 
faltered out: " Our lady sends us to say that she is 
ready to supply you with anything you may re- 
quire!" '* Return my thanks to your lady," said 
Savonarola, and the men retired. They could not 
touch him. His hour had not yet come. 

At the close of his last sermon in Bologna Sa- 
vonarola announced: " I shall this evening leave 
Bologna with my walking stick" — Savonarola made 
all his journeys on foot — *'and wooden flask. If 
anyone has anything to say to me, let him come to 
me before I leave. My death will not be celebrated 
at Bologna." Even that early, he seemed to have 
an inward conviction that his death would not occur 
out of Florence. That evening, accompanied by 
his friend, Fra Basilio, he set out on the journey 
over the Apennines. 

The uneasiness of the Florentines under the sway 
of Pietro de Medici, with the Prince's too apparent 
enmity toward himself, , sorely burdened the weary 
prior as he drew near the city. As he pursued his 
way, faint and foot-sore, there appeared to him 
suddenly a supernatural personage — evidently to 



52 SAVONAROLA. 

strengthen the sinking wayfarer — who attended him 
to the gate San Gallo and then disappeared, after 
uttering this note of warning, " Remember that 
thou doest that for which thou art sent by God." 

This incident is related by Savonarola's biogra- 
pher, Burlamacchi, one of his constant and appre- 
ciative hearers. Viewed in the light of the period 
in which Savonarola lived, and of the church in 
which he was nurtured, it does not impress one as 
at all remarkable. And, indeed, regarded even from 
a Protestant standpoint, the circumstance is credi- 
ble. No one can affirm but that in all ages God's 
consecrated servants, in moments of despondency, 
or of physical weakness, or in hours of great peril, 
have been sustained by heavenly messengers, sent 
to cheer, strengthen, or help. It is the word of 
God which asks with reference to angels: "Are 
they^not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minis- 
ter for them who shall be heirs of salvation? " No- 
tice: It is only to those who shall be heirs of 
salvation that they minister. 

We give prominence to these oft-repeated visions, 
because, as we think, they prodigiously influenced 
his choice of the unwise course which terminated 
in his shameful martyrdom. If any other influence 
was greater, it was that produced by his wrapt and 
constant study of the Old Testament prophecies, 
and of the Revelation. Certainly these two forces 
did very much toward giving the man's life the 
contour it presents to us at the distance of four 
centuries from his time. 




CHAPTER VII. 

REFORMS IN SAN MARCO. 

HAT Savonarola was an intensely practical 
worker, as well as a man influenced by su- 
pernatural sights, was clearly apparent upon 
his return to San Marco. For sometime discipline 
in the convent had been so relaxed, and the moral 
and spiritual tone within it so depressed, as to im- 
peril its little society. This state of things he now 
determined to improve. Up to this time San Marco 
had been ruled by the Dominican vicars of Lom- 
bardy. Savonarola secured a papal order releas- 
ing the convent from their control. Thus he be- 
came supreme in authority, subject only to the 
Pope, and could a^omplish his reforms. 

So uncongenial previously had been the life at 
San Marco that he had thought seriously of with- 
drawing from it ; but now, as he believed, he was 
in the place divinely appointed for him, and he 
would there do his duty. He himself tells us his de- 
sire was " not to make mere hermits of his brethren, 
but good religious men, who should lead holy lives, 
and for the salvation of men be ready to shed their 
blood." He looked into the future with the bright- 
est hope. He and his consecrated friars should re- 
kindle faith, arouse a sleeping world. 

(53) 



54 SAVONAROLA. 

Enormous possessions had been brought into the 
convent. His first step was to revive the vow of 
poverty. Had not the last words of St. Dominic, 
who founded the order, been, ''Be charitable, pre- 
serve humility, practice poverty with cheerfulness," 
followed by the awful malediction : " May my curse 
and that of God fall upon him who shall bring 
possessions into this order." No longer should 
these words remain a dead letter. Upon the walls 
of San Marco should they now be inscribed. " Men 
shall hear them again," declared Savonarola, as he 
paced the cloisters absorbed in thought, or gazed 
upon Fra Angelico's portrait of St. Dominic, until 
he almost heard that curse fall from his lips. 
"Again and again had the vow of poverty been 
broken. And the other vows, had they been kept? 
Times without number had they been infringed." 

In order to sustain the convent without gifts, 
Savonarola devised courses of instruction in sculp- 
ture, painting, architecture, illuminating and copying 
of manuscripts. Lay brethren and friars who were 
not qualified to teach, or to study in the classes, 
were furnished some suitable employment, and thus 
soon all were at work. Greek, Hebrew, and other 
languages which would aid in the study of Scripture, 
were also taught in San Marco. 

Throughout this entire system of renewing, 
Savonarola was the living illustration of the princi- 
ples he advocated. In study, in self-denial, in obe- 
dience to discipline, he led them all. If strict with 
the members, he was more so vvith himself. His 
raiment was coarser, his bed harder, his cell more 
scantily furnished than theirs. Thus was the entire 
tone of life in the convent elevated, and the institu- 
tion grew rapidly in reputation. 

Admission within its walls was sought, as a high 



REFORMS IN SAN MARCO. 55 

favor, by the first citizens of Florence. And neigh- 
boring convents desired to join the Tuscan Congre- 
gation, that they might be allied to San Marco. 
With reference to the latter petitions, Savonarola 
moved cautiously, always referring them to the Pope. 
But gladly would he have welcomed all the Domini- 
cans of Tuscany around San Marco. In reference 
to this, however, humiliation was in store for him. 
Of the forty-four friars in Pisa, only four would 
consent to the union. At Siena, while making a 
tour to accomphsh this object, the authorities drove 
him from the city. He withdrew and returned to 
Florence, meeting with a cordial welcome. 

It was during Lent of this year, probably 1495, 
that Savonarola preached a series of sermons that 
specially set forth the doctrines he wished to stamp 
indelibly upon the minds of the people. They were 
the very doctrines enforced a quarter of a century 
later by Luther, Zwingle, Knox, and Calvin. Yet 
they were proclaimed and eagerly accepted early 
in the reign of Alexander VI., the worst of popes, 
and in Italy the very stronghold of the Papacy, 
by great numbers who listened to Savonarola at 
San Marco and elsewhere. 

In this year, too, occurred the remarkable coin- 
cidence of Savonarola preaching *' faith in Christ as 
the gift of God, for the salvation of every believer," 
and the revival of "that accursed tribunal," the 
Spanish Inquisition. Midnight times they were, 
** when priests governed politically and princes 
ruled ecclesiastically." Church and State were one. 
The Pope was both a temporal prince and the 
"Head of the Church." But the dawn of a better 
day was at hand. Savonarola was in the full tide 
of his career, fearlessly denouncing " priestly princes 
and princely priests," neither fearing nor favoring 



56 SAVONAROLA. 

man. And God greatly honored him ; used him to 
blaze the trees for the grand reformers soon to fol- 
low him. 

No class of men were so severely rebuked as the 
clergy. "Why," he would ask, "do they tickle 
ears with Aristotle, Virgil, Plato, Plutarch? Why 
do they not instead, teach that in which is the law 
and the spirit of life?" Often he said: "The gospel, 
my brethren, must be your constant companion. 
I speak not of the book but of its spirit. Having 
not the spirit of grace, it will avail nothing, though 
you carry about the whole volume." 

It is beyond denial that Savonarola's appreciation 
of Scripture was veiy far in advance of his time. 
It was said there is not a text to which he could not 
turn in a moment. A vast portion of the Bible he 
knew by heart. Better still, by constant prayer 
and study, its v/ords had become to him the voice 
of its divine Author, revealing unto him the mighti- 
est truths. Savonarola's devout love of the life- 
giving word begat in him a burning desire that 
laity and clergy should study it. He wanted every 
home in Italy, every class of people, to be blessed 
by it. 

He would sometimes exclaim: "People of Flor- 
ence, give yourselves to the study of God's word! 
The highest blessing is to understand it. Let us 
publicly confess the fact that the Scriptures have 
been locked up. Their light has been almost ex- 
tinguished, been set aside, left in the dust." 

This was a caustic and brave charge to make 
against the Catholic Church. For who but she 
had extinguished the light of the Scriptures. Had 
she not hung, burned, tortured, imprisoned, by 
every mode punished and put to death, thousands 
of God's children for no other crime than that of 
secretly reading and teaching his word ? 




Savonarola Preaching. 



58 SAVONAROLA. 

We next hear him demolish that fatal system of 
Mary-worship, which is but an invention of the 
same power. Listen to him : *' You may, perhaps, 
inquire why I so rarely preach about the virgin, 
since she is in highest degree to be praised. And 
I beg to ask you why the Holy Spirit has in so few 
instances made mention of her in the Scriptures ? 
and why the primitive saints preached so little about 
her? Should you reply, *The people are now more 
devoted to her than were the early fathers and 
saints,' I should deem such an answer nothing to 
the purpose, nor even credible; for the apostles, 
who so much loved and honored her,have made 
little or no mention of her. How did this happen? 
The apostles have not written of her because our 
salvatiojt depends on faith in Christy and they, being 
wholly bent on this fact, preached nothing but Christ. 
In consequence of the great light they had from 
God, their views were wholly fixed on him, not 
on the creature. 

" Besides, had the apostles recorded the praises of 
the virgin, dwelt on her profound humility, her im- 
mense charity, and her other boundless virtues, the 
people wotdd probably have read the gospel of the 
virgin more than the gospel of the acts of Christy 
and would have made a divinity of her. Since, then, 
the object of the apostles was to exalt Christ, and 
to prove that he alone is God, he alone is the Mes- 
siah who came to save the world, I, like them, 
have attempted to preach according to the Script- 
ure; and since the Scripture makes little mention 
of the virgin, my habit has been not to speak much 
of her." 

Listen, also, to his ringing words on faith. They 
render San Marco's eloquent prior not unworthy a 
place among those who felled the trees and bridged 



REFORMS IN SAN MARCO. 59 

the streams before the noble army yet to come, on 
whose banners should be inscribed, "Thejust shall 
live by faith." ** In faith everything depends on 
appropriation. Not only must we say, 'Thou art 
king, O God,' but, 'Thou art my king and my God, 
my God whom I desire. My God in whom I trust.' 
Every confidence in ourselves is false. That confi- 
dence, alone, which is based on Jesus Christ is just. 
His merit is boundless and of boundless power. Its 
source is in the Godhead. It comes from the might 
which is in Jesus without measure." These words 
were a torch uplifted amid great darkness. He ut- 
tered many more like them. 

They place Savonarola — with Tauler in Germany, 
Huss in Bohemia, Wycliffe in England — among 
the grand heralds of the reformation, which, led 
by Luther, was to burst forth in the next century. 
Indeed, his connection with that movement was 
much closer than is generally supposed. 

It was in Florence, during the years of his high- 
est usefulness at San Marco, that by his glowing 
words he aroused a fervent love of the truth in 
such earnest young English scholars as John Lin- 
acre, for a time tutor to the children of Lorenzo de 
Medici; as John Colet, afterward Dean of St. Paul's 
in London and Biblical lecturer at Oxford; as Will- 
iam Grocyn, divinity professor at Exeter College; 
as William Lilly, the first teacher of Greek in the 
city of London. 

Drawn by enthusiasm for the learning which 
Lorenzo delighted to foster, these and other Oxford 
students went to Florence to study. They returned 
to England bringing not only a revival of art and 
literature from the court of Lorenzo, but also a re- 
vival of deep spirituality from the cloisters of San 
Marco. What they had learned and experienced 



6o SAVONAROLA. 

soon took firm hold in the churches, lecture-rooms, 
and college halls of England. Noted among these 
young men became John Colet. In fact, no better 
fruit of his labors did Savonarola leave behind him 
than the conversion of this heroic Englishman. 

We may profitably take space to here summarize 
the life of Colet. He was a son of the Lord Mayor 
of London, a son, too, of fortune, but destined to a 
life of constant well-doing. Almost with the eyes 
of the great Italian preacher he seemed to see the 
corruption existing in high places. He declared: 
"Unless there can be a reform of the clergy, from 
the Pope down, through all grades, I see no chance 
of saving the church. O Jesus Christ," he cried, 
"wash for us not our feet only, but also our hands 
and our head/ Otherwise our disordered church 
cannot be far from death." 

John Colet, subjected to the most violent asper- 
sions, waged a fierce battle against the destructive 
"methods and principles of the schoolmen. From 
their dogmatism he revolted with all his soul." 
His study of Greek in Florence had opened to him 
the New Testament, the vivifying facts of the gospel 
story, the edifying letters of the apostles. And 
soon he began to teach the truths he had learned. 
For his pay he was charged with "making infidels"! 

John Colet was the first link, next to Savonarola. 
Now mark the next link. John Colet could teach 
Greek. In Holland lived a young student, eager 
for the " new learning," but too poor to go into 
Italy, to the scuv^^Is of the Medici. He worked his 
passage to England, and came to John Colet to be 
taught Greek. This was the to-be-famous Erasmus 
of Rotterdam. Colet taught hiai something be- 
sides Greek. Soon the pupil excelled the master. 
Erelong the keenest pen of that age was holding up 



REFORMS IN SAN MARCO. 6 1 

to the contempt they deserved, monkish ignorance 
and priestly pretension. 

This is not all. Erasmus gave an immense in- 
fluence to the Reformation, by editing the Greek 
Testament with a Latin translation. " The book 
became the talk of the universities." Reading it, 
men were for the first time brought into vivifying 
contact with the life of Christ. That book fell into 
the hands of Thomas Bilney, a poor student like 
Erasmus, endeavoring by fastings and vigils to 
obtain ease for a troubled conscience ; a man buying 
masses and indulgences; a man wondering if any- 
where a guide could be found. Erasmus is the 
second link from Savonarola, Thomas Bilney is the 
third. 

As he opened the Testament, these words fell 
under his eye. " This is a faithful saying, and 
worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came 
into the world to save sinners." He afterward said: 
" This one sentence, through the power of God 
Working on my soul, rejoiced my heart, deeply^; 
Wounded by a sense of sin, and almost in the depths 
of despair, I felt an inward comfort which I can- 
not describe. My broken heart rejoiced." 

While Bilney was at Cambridge, there was pass- 
ing through the divinity school a hot young pa- 
pist, with heart full of hatred against the new opin- 
ions, and against those who denounced the vices of 
the priesthood. So zealous was his ecclesiasticism 
that the university made him its official cross- 
bearer, that is, the bearer of the g.cat silver cross 
in the university parades and processions. Upon 
taking his degree as bachelor of divinity, this young 
Catholic made a spiteful attack against the gentle 
Philip Melancthon. 

Thomas Bilney heard the oration, and discovered 



62 SAVONAROLA. 

in it tokens that, mentally, its author was ill at ease; 
that he needed to know just what he, Thomas 
Bilney, had experienced. He followed him to his 
study and entreated him to hear him. As both 
were in the same church fold, the young divine 
listened. Bilney told him the pitiable story of his 
own struggle, how he had " done penance, had paid 
for masses and absolutions, had fasted, wept, prayed, 
until almost in despair." In short, he had used all 
the remedies the young man's oration had recom- 
mended. At last he read the book forbidden to 
the people by the church, and therein found the 
knowledge of God's free gift in Jesus Christ, and 
so found peace. "And now," asked Bilney, '' must 
I go back to penance and despair?" 

" Bilney 's frank and simple story," said the 
young priest afterwards, " revealed to me more of 
myself than I ever before knew." Long had he 
craved the peace and health of mind Bilney now 
possessed. With all his soul he sought it and 
found it. He was one of the university preachers. 
Soon he began to preach mightily the doctrine of 
eternal life as 2. free gift, through Jesus Christ, to ev- 
ery penitent soul. He was a man called to preach 
before kings. He was a man to suffer martyrdom by 
burning. He was Hugh Latimer, Bishop of Wor- 
cester, peer of the realm, and the fourth link from 
Savonarola. We are now in the full tide of the 
Reformation. 




CHAPTER VIII. 

IN ITALY— PAGANISM EVERYWHERE. 

*E have seen that the " revival of learning " 
— as it was termed — in Italy, under the sway 
of the Medici, including the study of Greek 
especially, led to large increase of spiritual' 
life in England. In Italy the result was different. 
There the tendency was strong toward everything 
ancient, whether in art or in books. And this was 
simply a running after paganism. Whatever was 
heathenish in painting, in sculpture, in pottery, in 
books, was welcomed, admired, treasured. More 
than all his cotemporaries, Lorenzo de Medici fos- 
tered this taste. The furor swept into the church. 
Scarcely a vestige or semblance of Christianity re- 
mained in it. Essentially the people were heathen 
amid all the splendor. ** Italy was the darkest spot 
in all Christendom," remarks one in speaking of that 
period. This inclination backward and downward 
Savonarola clearly saw from the moment he en- 
tered Florence. The state of things sorely troubled 
him. Everywhere he protested against it. As soon 
as possible he meant to effect a reform, in every 
line of literature especially. No sooner was he 
prior of San Marco than he began the work. Did 
his condemnation include all ancient literature? — 
Far from it. Few men were better versed in the 
classics than Savonarola. But the enthusiastic 
study of pagan authors and pagan art had corrupted 
the Christian faith, and displaced the Holy Script- 

(63) 



64 SAVONAROLA. 

ures. These, and not Greek fables, he believed to 
be the basis of all true education. Why should 
Livy and Thucydides engross the whole attention 
of students, and the historians of the Old Testament 
be neglected? he would ask. 

The study of the Old Testament was his delight, 
as has already been remarked. And when he 
would lead others into its rich fields, his words 
were spoken with thrilling effect. Often the telling 
of what he himself had found therein changed the 
plan and purpose of a human life. To too great an 
extent, perhaps, he attached a spiritual meaning to 
everything. But this faculty gave him an immense 
influence in teaching and preaching, as well as in 
quiet, earnest talks with friends. Thus, in urging 
the Florentines to shun intellectual idolatry, his 
prohibitions were strengthened and supported by 
text after text of Scripture. From every wandering 
path he brought them straight back to its lessons. 

'Tsaac," he said, " commanded not to take a wife 
of the daughters of Canaan, warned Christians not 
to seek truth in heathen writings." " The Jews, 
loathing manna in the wilderness, and sighing for 
the flesh-pots of Egypt, prefigured those who have 
the word of God but neglect it for the study of 
pagan philosophy." To this symbolism he added 
the noble exhortation to '' believe in the all-suffi- 
ciency of the word, and in the wisdom of Christ, who 
has left his precepts so clearly expressed t/iat no 
Imman zvisdoin is required to explain tJieniy How 
contradictory is this last statement to the teaching 
of the papal church, which maintains that the com- 
mon people cannot understand the Scriptures, and 
should not read them without explanation by the 
priests. 

He exclaimed: " Go into all the schools of Flor- 



IN ITALY PAGANISM EVERYWHERE. 65 

ence, and you will find professors paid to teach 
logic and philosophy, the arts and sciences, but 
not one paid to undertake the teaching of Holy 
Scripture. Dost thou not perceive that faith is de- 
graded by resting it on the profane sciences? Call 
to mind David going forth to meet Goliath, and, 
laying aside the armor of pagan study, arm thyself 
with a lively and simple faith, after the example of 
the apostles and martyrs." 

Prodigious was the evil effect of this exclusive 
cultivation of classical literature. All branches of 
education suffered from it. The standard of excel- 
lence in art was found in pagan models. Not only 
so, artists often selected their models from the most 
unworthy classes. ** Madonnas, Magdalens, and 
saints were picked up anywhere, and under the 
artist's transforming hand became holy, humble men 
and women, and even glorified saints." Before such 
pictures the people paid homage. To Savonarola 
the thought of all this was torture. At the same 
time he realized that the mere putting away of im- 
pure things would not secure purity of heart. So, 
with all the energy of his soul, he implored his peo- 
ple to strive after inward cleanliness. 

As he no doubt anticipated, loud voices were 
raised in opposition, and perhaps the most hostile 
were those of the priests, for some of them even 
refused absolutions to persons who attended the 
prior's lectures. These things Savonarola well 
knew, and therefore looked for but little fruit of his 
labor in his own day. But from the youths and 
children who heard him, he hoped much. He 
delighted in filling their minds with his own healthy 
thoughts, and often tenderly urged them "to 
remember his words, and to see that they bore fruit 
when his voice should be heard no more." 

5 



66 SAVONAROLA. 

Sometimes he told them that in their hands 
might be placed the guidance and government of 
their country, the education of children yet unborn. 
Then, addressing the mothers, he entreated them 
"to restrain and guide their children as only moth- 
ers can. Now he admonished the fathers to se- 
cure to their sons the soundest education possible ; 
to assure to them a knowledge of true Christianity, 
while they acquainted themselves with Virgil, 
Cicero, and Horace; thus would they acquire both 
eloquence and the truth." 

Great must have been Savonarola's confidence 
that from his seed-sowing in the hearts of the youth- 
ful Florentines a rich harvest would be reaped, for 
at the close of one of these sermons, we hear him 
exclaim: "O Florence! deal with me as thou wilt. 
I have mounted the pulpit this day, to tell thee that 
thou wilt not destroy my work, because it is the 
work of Christ. Whether I live or die, the seed I 
have sown will not the less bear fruit. If my ene- 
mies are powerful enough to drive me from thy 
walls, I shall not be grieved. Some desert I shall 
find where I can take refuge with my Bible, and 
enjoy a repose which thy citizens shall not be able 
to disturb." 

Indeed, Savonarola's career proved that with the 
children his influence was marvelous. Under his 
gentle, persuasive words and manner, the children 
of Florence, formerly rude and willful, yielded to 
his every request. They attended his preaching; 
joined most heartily with him in the devotional 
exercises ; chanted the sacred songs and hymns which 
he himself had composed and adapted to music, 
and which, as he ardently hoped, would induce the 
older Florentines to discard the pernicious ballads 
provided by Lorenzo de Medici, to be sung during 
the annual carnival. 



IN ITALY PAGANISM EVERYWHERE. 6/ 

These songs were simply execrable, so odious 
that, since Savonarola's warfare against them, no 
one presumed to sing them in the city streets; yet 
so depraved was the public taste, so vitiated the 
general opinion, that the *'Divina Comedia" of 
Dante, men presumed to say, was *' inferior to the 
carnival songs of Lorenzo de Medici." Notwith- 
standing, this was called in Italy " the Golden Age 
of Literature." To overcome this opinion was 
fighting one's way up hill ; yet upward Savonarola 
pressed his way undaunted, looking neither to the 
right hand nor to the left, sure of fruitage from his 
labor — in the children. 

The great man used to say that " a child pro- 
tected from sin until old enough to exercise self- 
judgment, acquires so great a purity of heart and 
mind that the angels of heaven delight to converse 
with him." 





CHAPTER IX. 

AN EVENT IN FLORENTINE HISTORY. 

'E shall soon be obliged to present a new 
phase of Savonarola's life. In order to make 
this feature plain, we must first glance briefly 
at an event which now occurred in Flor- 
entine history. The period is 1494. Charles VIII. 
is on the throne of France. Recently, treaties of 
peace have been made between himself and En- 
gland, Spain, and Austria. This peace gives him 
leisure to think about his claim to the crown of 
Naples. Ludovico il Moro, Duke of Milan, was 
aware of this claim, and now rashly suggested to 
Charles that he had better come over and take 
possession of the little sovereignty. Ludovico had 
been advised not to take that step, and probably 
made the proposition little expecting that an at- 
tempt in that direction would forthwith follow. But 
Charles was quite ready for the movement, and so 
informed the Duke of Milan. 

Up to this date, Florence had been on friendly 
terms with the French king. But, alarmed at the 
prospect of a foreign army passing through his 
domain, Pietro de Medici committed the grave mis- 
take of making an alliance with the king of Naples. 
This made him an enemy of the approaching 
Charles. 

Singularly enough, Italy, the very land to be 
invaded, encouraged the French expedition, while 
France herself, aside from the king and court, was 
(68) 



AN EVENT IN FLORENTINE HISTORY. 69 

utterly opposed to the undertaking. Nothwith- 
standing, on the 5 th of September, Charles 
crossed the Alps and entered Turin with an army 
amazing for the splendor of its infantry, for its 
hundreds of spirited Scotch and French cavaliers, 
and its many cannon on wheels — a new thing in 
that day. 

The excitement in Florence rose almost to frenzy, 
as rumor after rumor about the invaders reached the 
ears of the people. Amid the furor Savonarola 
proved to be the only man who could restrain the 
fears and feelings of the multitude. He was able to 
turn them in whatever direction he pleased, ** and 
for the next four years the devout prior of San 
Marco held the foremost place in Florentine his- 
tory." His own enthusiasm, deep and glowing, in- 
fected everyone who came within his magic in- 
fluence. A hearty " amen " was the response to 
his every opinion or utterance. In short, the man's 
power was simply astonishing. 

At Brescia, years before, as the reader will re- 
member, Savonarola had foretold that a flood of 
frightful calamity would come upon Italy. That 
visitation, he now declared, was about to burst upon 
the ungodly. The subject of Noah building the 
ark furnished him a suitable theme for a series of 
sermons on the unrighteous times — "an ark," he an- 
nounced, "to be constructed, not of gopher-wood, 
but of those virtues, the absence of which had 
brought the city of Florence to its present degraded 
condition." 

Plank by plank, the imaginative preacher built 
up his unique ark, right before the eyes of the peo- 
ple, an ark in which only those who would repent 
were to find refuge. What was to be the nature of 
the coming destruction the prior did not indicate as 



70 SAVONAROLA. 

yet. And as sermon after sermon closed, without 
the much-dreaded yet longed-for announcement, 
the anxiety of the people became almost insupport- 
able. Alluding to that time, Savonarola once said, 
" I felt held back from defining what should be the 
character of that flood, as by some superior power. 

Sunday after Sunday did thousands of people 
flock to the Duomo to learn what this disaster was 
to be, and went away no wiser than they came. 
To hear him, many, coming from a distance in the 
country, traveled all night, and at dawn of day were 
at the city gates awaiting admission. 

"A flood of waters ! " Could that be a divine 
symbol for the advancing French army ? — be that 
great chastisement Savonarola had so often referred 
to? It must be so ; and at their very doors, then, 
was the fulfillment of his prediction." Thus believed, 
not frightened ignorance only, but learned and 
thoughtful men, the profoundest minds in Florence ; 
for to them was Savonarola's divine mission as 
great a reality as to himself So, with a constant 
feeling of awe, did the soberest men of the day 
await the descent of the flood upon the corrupt 
land, and the still more corrupt church. 

Charles' arrival in Turin was unknown in Flor- 
ence until September 21. That day Savonarola 
preached in the Duomo. The church was even 
more densely packed than usual. Every jot of space 
was occupied hours before the services began. The 
anxiety to hear him was intense. At last the mighty 
preacher appeared. Amid the deepest silence, ^¥ith 
every eye fastened upon him, he entered the pulpit. 
With a calm face he surveyed the great company, 
and perceived the ill-suppressed agitation. 

The man stood silent for a moment, and then 
suddenly, and with loud voice, cried, "Behold! I 



AN EVENT IN FLORENTINE HISTORY. ^I 

bring a flood of waters upon the earth ! " Like a 
terrific thundei--clap, that announcement filled every 
heart with terror. Savonarola's friend, Prince Pico, 
who was present, afterwards said : '*As I listened, a 
shudder ran through my frame. The hair of my 
head stood on end." 

Savonarola also admitted that he himself was 
not less moved than was his audience. In their 
alarm the people pressed toward the speaker, as if 
to secure protection from him whose declaration 
had so moved them. Hitherto had all his prophe- 
cies proved true. The three titled ones, whose 
death he had foretold, were all sleeping in their 
graves, and now the sword of judgment he had be- 
held in the air was at the very gates. Not in 
Florence only, but throughout all Italy, every eye 
looked to Savonarola for counsel in the emergency. 
Thus it happened that, as by a stroke of magic, 
the men attached to him became masters of the 
city. 

In those days of fearful apprehension and danger, 
the princely ruler of Florence was often seen play- 
ing ball in the streets. Not only was Pietro de 
Medici fierce and tyrannical by nature, but he was 
utterly incompetent. Not a few now cherished the 
hope that the march of events would soon end his 
career as Lord of Florence. Presently information 
reached the city that Charles and his host were at 
her very gates ! Then flamed forth the suppressed 
wrath of the people against the weak ruler. He 
awoke to a sense of his danger. Trembling, stricken 
with fear, first here, then there, he turned for shel- 
ter from the impending catastrophe. There was 
no shelter; and, "seized by an insane folly, he took 
the crowning step toward depriving himself of his 
power." 



72 SAVONAROLA. 

Pietro called to mind that when his father was at 
war with Naples five years before, he obtained ac- 
cess to King Ferdinand, and in a personal interview 
gained peace for Florence and security for himself 
He resolved to follow Lorenzo's example, and seek 
the presence of Charles. Thereupon, without delay, 
and accompanied by only a few personal friends, he 
rode forth to Sargano, where the king of France 
had halted, and there, having secured a safe-con- 
duct, he immediately waited upon the king. 

Charles was ready with his requirements, and, 
frightened out of his wits, Pietro conceded every- 
thing, promised the king large sums of money, 
and ceded to him the strongholds of Pisa and Leg- 
horn. Pleased with having saved his own life, the 
ignoble prince now rode back to Florence, to present, 
as an excuse for his traitorous course, the assertion 
of Charles, that " on no other terms would he prom- 
ise that his troops should traverse Tuscany as 
friends and not as foes." 

Pietro reached the palazzo publico, in Florence, 
on the 8th of November. During his absence, in- 
dignation over the step he had taken reached a 
fearful point. His departure from the city was 
deemed an act which no emergency could justify. 
Openly, the citizens declared that despotic rule, 
barely tolerable under Lorenzo, had become un- 
bearable under Pietro — " The Fool." On his way 
to the palazzo, Pietro received unmistakable evi- 
dence of this feeling. Not one of his friends had a 
word of encouragement, or a word in his defense. 

Most dispiritingly, too, some of the leading citi- 
zens who had long been firm adherents of the 
House of the Medici suddenly changed sides, and 
became bitter foes to the man now bearing that 
name. An excited multitude, ready to restore lib- 
erty to Florence, at almost any cost, filled the 



AN EVENT IN FLORENTINE HISTORY. J^3 

palazzo. Advancing through an excited crowd, 
Pietro reached the place untouched. The Seignory, 
there assembled, listened to his tale of duplicity 
without a word of approval. Filled with forebod- 
ings, the prince left their presence. Next morning 
he summoned to his aid five hundred horsemen; 
but the day had gone by when the proud Floren- 
tines could be put down by a few troops. 

Every man of the Seignory declared hostility to 
him ; the enraged citizens thirsted for his blood. 
Pietro made vain attempts to arrest the leaders of 
the revolution, but was foiled at every step. Es- 
corted by a mounted body-guard, he rode to the 
great gates of the palazzo, and found them closed. 
He commanded them to be opened. The Seignory 
refused to obey. " If he pleased, he could enter 
alone by the postern, but the gates would not be 
opened to him." 

Thinking discretion the wiser part under the cir- 
cumstances, Pietro returned to his palace. Barely 
had he arrived there, when the unmistakable news 
reached him that, to a man, the Seignory had de- 
clared against him, and had pronounced him a rebel 
and an outlaw. Completely dismayed, he mounted 
his horse, and, with the cries of '' liberty" and " the 
people" ringing in his ears, passed through the 
gate San Gallo, and sped away to Bologna. 

His brother, Giovanni de Medici, then Cardinal 
de Nemours, but afterwards Pope Leo X., and the 
most popular of Lorenzo's sons, addressed the 
throng from the street. But no effort could avail 
to stem the tide of antagonism. Showers of stones 
greeted him from the windows and house-tops. 
Giovanni, having intrusted a large share of the 
family treasures to the care of the convent of San 
Marco, gladly followed his brother to Bologna. 




CHAPTER X. 

CHARLES ENTERS FLORENCE. 

T the hour of Pietro's flight, Savonarola was 
not in Florence. No sooner had the Sen- 
ate determined to restore the republic, No- 
vember, 1494, than it dispatched a fresh em- 
bassy to King Charles, to arrange for his entering 
Florence. Savonarola was one of the envoys. It 
was during his absence that Pietro ingloriously de- 
parted. 

Before leaving, however, Savonarola preached in 
the Duomo, and closed his sermon with these sol- 
emn words : — 

" The Lord has heard your prayers. He has 
caused a great revolution to end peaceably. When 
the city was abandoned by its ruler, he alone 
came to its aid. Persevere, then, O people of Flor- 
ence ! in peace and good works. If you wish the 
Lord to continue his mercy toward you , be merci- 
ful to your enemies. If you be not so, the chastise- 
ment preparing for the rest of Italy, will fall upon 
you. The Lord saith unto you, 'I will have 
mercy.' Woe to those who disobey the command." 

After the sermon, Savonarola set out, on foot, for 
the French camp. 

The other members of the embassage reached 
Pietra Santa, where Charles now was, a day in ad- 
vance of the prior. At an audience with the king, 
they informed him that Florence would give him a 
friendly reception, if he would enter as a friend. A 
direct answer Charles would not give. Refusing to 
(74) 



CHARLES ENTERS FLORENXE. 75 

sign the treaty presented to him, he decHned to 
commit himself to any course of action. 

Upon his arrival, Savonarola, alone, entered the 
royal presence. Wearing the garb of a prior of 
San Marco, and carrying in his hands the open 
Gospel, he passed the long line of armed men. 
Charles, attended by his generals, received him 
with respect. Pointing to the book, and in a tone 
of calm authority, Savonarola thus addressed him : — 

" Great king! thou minister of divine justice, God 
has long borne with the grievous sins of Italy, 
graciously waiting for her repentance. Despite the 
most sacred obligations, she has lifted up her hard 
and tawdry face, until now the hour of divine venge- 
ance is at hand. To his unworthy servant now 
before thee, God revealed, moie than five years ago, 
his purpose to reform the church by means of severe 
chastisement. From that time his servant has 
never ceased to call the people to repentance. This, 
men of all classes will affirm. Few believed the 
words spoken; multitudes derided them. 

"At length, O king! as th'e minister of God, the 
minister of justice, may thine arrival prove alto- 
gether propitious! But, most gracious king ! give 
ear to my words, and apply them to thy heart. 
The unworthy servant of God to whom these 
things have been revealed, admonishes thee that, 
after his example, thou must in all things incline to 
mercy, but particularly towards the city of Flor- 
ence, which, although she has committed great 
transgressions, yet contains many true servants of 
God. For their sake thou must preserve the city, 
that with the more quiet mind we may pray for 
thee. Therefore, O king! be warned to defend all 
who need and deserve mercy; but most of all pro- 
tect thou those devoted to Christ in the nunneries, 



76 SAVONAROLA. 

lest through thee sin should superabound, and the 
strength given thee from on high be turned into 
weakness." 

Was the character of Charles VIII. such as to 
encourage Savonarola to expect much compassion 
from him? Guicciardini thus paints him: "Rash, 
unstable, uncultivated, young, and good-natured, 
but one who never considered the consequences of 
any step he desired to take, and still less regarded 
his promise, whether extorted from him or volun- 
tarily given, he was unstable as water." Yet Sa- 
vonarola indulged the hope that his plea had made 
some impressiop. Accustomed to sway masses of 
people, to the degree that they saw with his eyes, 
believed what he believed, why should he not ex- 
pect the king to obey his charge? 

Unheeded did his grave words fall on the ear of 
the king. Savonarola was not more successful 
than his brother ambassadors. Sign a treaty pledg- 
ing security to Florence, Charles would not. "Ev- 
erything should be arranged when he reached the 
great city." This was very little to encourage. 
Still Savonarola retraced his way, not without hope. 
He reflected with comfort upon the astonishment 
Charles evinced, on hearing himself designated as 
the "rod of God." He did not know how quickly 
that astonishment gave place to indifference. 

On Sunday, November 17, Florence threw open 
her gates to the French king. " His entry was on 
a scale of magnificence never before witnessed in 
that city. As the Florentines assembled upon the 
streets watched with anxious eye the striking spec- 
tacle, the passing Frenchmen heard, here and there, 
mutterings which presaged no good to the intrud- 
ers should the populace but get the advantage." 

Nevertheless, although large bodies of armed 



CHARLES ENTERS FLORENCE. JJ 

Florentines lay concealed in the churches and mon- 
asteries, ready to spring forth at the slightest prov- 
ocation, not an act of hostility took place. 

Crossing the Ponte Vecchio, Charles proceeded 
to the Duomo, where he attended divine service, 
and thence passed on to the palace of the Medici, 
where splendid preparations had been made for his 
.reception. The magnificence all around them made 
the invaders feel keenly the wide contrast between 
the Italian civilization of that period and the com- 
parative lack of luxury in France. 

At this juncture there spread through Florence, 
like wild-fire, a report that Pietro de Medici was at 
the gates with an armed host. Suddenly the great 
alarm bell of the palazzo, whose rope was never 
touched except in hours of peril to Florence, now 
sent its warning peals through and through the 
city. Instantly warriors seemed to spring out of 
the very ground; the streets filled with citizens, and 
barricades went up as if by magic. The startling 
rumor proved false, but it demonstrated to the 
astonished Frenchmen what Florence could do in 
the line of city barricades when occasion demanded. 

At the same hour angry discussion was afoot be- 
tween Charles and the Senate. The king demanded, 
first of all, large sums on account of his distressed 
finances; next, Pietro must be recalled and rein- 
stated; third, for himself he must have the sover- 
eignty of the city. Within her walls a body of men 
must govern in his name, on the ground that "a 
conqueror has a right to impose such terms as he 
pleases upon a conquered people." A conquered 
people! Florence was not aNvare that she was con- 
quered, and the assumption brought forth a burst 
of indignation from the Seignory. 

For Florence to free herself of unwelcome guests 



^8 SAVONAROLA. 

by the payment of money, was not a new thing ; so 
now the large sum required by the monarch was 
readily pledged; but before he received it, he must 
accede to the terms of a paper now presented. The 
terms failed to suit him; whereupon a second con- 
tract, drawn by his own advisers, was laid before 
the Seignory. The document contained the king's 
ultimatum. Its demands were too unjust to be for 
a moment considered, and were couched in lan- 
guage so offensive that, stung to the quick, "the 
commissioners instantly remonstrated." 

Said Charles in reply: "If my terms are not ac- 
cepted, I shall order my trumpets to sound." 

Flaming with anger, Capponi, one of the com- 
missioners, and formerly an ambassador at the court 
of France, sprang to his feet, seized the offending 
paper from the hand of the secretary, and, tearing it 
in pieces, exclaimed: "Sound your trumpets, and 
we will ring our bells!" 

These were heroic words, and have become im- 
mortal. Marvelous was the effect they produced. 
Struck dumb with astonishment, both parties re- 
emaind silent for a moment. That threat to ring 
the bells of Florence did not strike the king favor- 
ably. He had just before witnessed the effect of 
ringing one bell, and was not anxious to hear more. 
Capponi turned to leave the room. Charles called 
him back, and took the cutting edge off his threat 
to sound the French trumpets, by saying with a 
smile: "Ah, Capon! Capon! You are a wicked 
Capon!" 

At length terms were concluded. They were 
ratified in the Duomio, November 26. Fifty thou- 
sand ducats were at once transferred to the king's 
depleted treasury. On his part, Charles agreed to 
leave the city within two days, and continue his 
course to Rome. 




CHAPTER XI. 



THE GREAT PREACHER BECOMES THE POLITI- 
CAL ADVISER. 

HE time was now the verge of winter. 
Charles was not eager to cross the Apennines 
at that season, and suffered day after day to 
pass without giving any signs of departure. 
All Florence longed to see him go, for daily alter- 
cations were occurring between the citizens and the 
French soldiery. So, once more, the Senate re- 
quested Savonarola to ask audience of the king and 
urge his leave-taking. Without a moment's hesi- 
tation, he consented. Making his way through 
guards of soldiers, he addressed Charles as one who 
believed he had for him a message direct from God, 
saying : — 

** Most Christian prince, thy delay here is caus- 
ing serious mischief, both to our city and to the 
mission in which thou art engaged. Thou art los- 
ing thy time, forgetful of the task imposed upon 
thee by Providence, to the great detriment of both 
thy spiritual welfare and thy worldly glory. Listen 
now to the servant of God. Go on thy way with- 
out further delay. Take care that thou dost not 
bring ruin on this city, and the anger of the Lord 
upon thyself" 

Afterwards, alluding to this interview, Savonarola 
truly remarked : " I spoke to the king as not one of 
you would have dared speak, and by the grace of 

(79) 



80 SAVONAROLA. 

God he was not offended. I said things which you 
yourselves would not have endured, and he patiently 
heard them," 

Two days after the prior's visit, the king with- 
drew from Florence. The joy at his departure 
was extraordinary. Great numbers flocked to the 
churches to thank God most heartily for removing 
the scourge which had so sorely chastened them. 

The city was now her own mistress, and the 
need of an effective form of government, lest the 
very liberty she had acquired should destroy her, 
grew hourly. And now, for the third time, she 
turned to Savonarola for help, and in yielding to 
this call, he started the train of circumstances which 
led to his ruin. 

" Surely, he who had preserved the city from a 
deluge of blood after the Medici's flight ; he who 
had freed them from Charles and his hated troops, 
could most safely steer the ship of State." While 
preaching in the Duomo, the prior read these 
thoughts, it has been said, .in the anxious faces 
before him, and with the permission of the Senate, 
he gave a series of lectures upon' the form of gov- 
ernment now safest for them. 

Having set forth the chief advantages of both 
monarchical and popular governments, the preacher 
earnestly recommended the latter, as best adapted 
to Florentine ideas and character, and as most in 
harmony with the traditions of the republic. Nat- 
urally, however, the higher class hesitated to trust 
the fortunes of the city to a popular government 
having the broad basis Savonarola recommended. 
Yet, to oppose his plan, supported as it was by the 
people, seemed equally hazardous. 

There followed many warm debates and tumults. 
We cannot here record them. But amid them all. 



THE PREACHER BECOMES THE ADVISER. 8 1 

Savonarola never swerved from the conviction that 
the only form of government suitable to Florence 
was a civil and popular one. " Woe be to thee, 
Florence! " he one day exclaimed from the pulpit, 
*' if thou place at thy head one who shall rule over 
thee supremely. Tyrant is the name of him who 
usurps the rights of others. Therefore, your first 
law should be that no man shall ever have a 
right to place himself at the head of your city. 
Such men strive to rise above others, and fail to 
maintain civil equality. Suffering this, you build 
upon a bed of sand. 

" You know," he continued, " that never willingly 
have I meddled with the affairs of State, and do 
you suppose I should now do so did I not see a 
necessity for my looking into them, for the salva- 
tion of your souls ? You have seen that my words 
have come true ; that they proceeded not from my 
own will, but came from God. Listen, then, to one 
who is seeking only your salvation. 

" Pacify your minds ; attend to the common good; 
forget your private interests. Reforming your city 
by such a course, it will become more glorious than 
ever. Thus, too, will you begin the reform of Italy, 
and, spreading your wings over the world, will bring 
about the reformation of all nations. Forget not 
that the Lord has given clear signs that he desires 
the renovation of all things, and that you are the 
people chosen to begin the good work. Open, O 
Lord! " he exclaimed, as he finished his appeal, 
"open, O Lord ! the hearts of this people, that they 
may know the things thou has revealed to me." 

Well would it have been for Savonarola had he 
at this point steadfastly refused to bear any part in 
the civil affairs of Florence, and had confined him- 
self strictly to the duties of his high calling. In an 
6 



82 SAVONAROLA. 

earlier day he had warmly denounced *' princely 
priests and priestly princes." Both terms imply a 
union of ecclesiastical and civil affairs, — a union at 
variance with the spirit and the purity of Christian- 
ity, — a union certainly not contemplated by Christ 
in his commission to his disciples, and one which 
cannot exist but with detriment to both the church 
and the State. 

That the great Florentine conscientiously under- 
took to guide the storm-driven barque of civil 
affairs at Florence, is not to be doubted. That he 
attempted it solely for the good of the people is 
instantly to be admitted, for in nothing was Savona- 
rola self-seeking. In everything he was self-denying. 
Nevertheless, that he made the mistake of his life 
in so doing, is not to be questioned. 

Up to this time his course had been consistent, 
and his progress continuous and steady; but from 
this time forward his course was as errratic as that 
of a ship without a rudder. Hitherto God had 
been his guide and helper, and his course was 
right; but henceforth he himself realized that he 
was wandering as in a maze, having no faithful 
guide; and yet, strangest of all, he threw upon the 
Lord all the blame. 

The city was indeed now free, but the utmost dis- 
order reigned. Its commerce was ruined ; its treas- 
ury was drained. Seventy years had it been gov- 
erned by the rapacious Medici. The art of self- 
government had been forgotten. There was im- 
mense need of a strong guiding mind in complete 
sympathy with the people. The only such soul in 
Florence was Savonarola. The love of the Floren- 
tines for the great preacher was now mightily in- 
creased by his fearless assertion of their rights. 
They besought him to take the helm. He consented, 



THE PREACHER BECOMES THE ADVISER. 83 

and without holding the least official position in 
the commonwealth, became the real head of the 
State, the actual dictator of Florence. 

Now what were his acts ? His first step was to 
relieve the starving populace within and without 
the walls. Shops were opened to give work to the 
unemployed. All taxes, especially those burdening 
the lower classes, were reduced. The administra- 
tion of justice was strictly enforced, and constantly 
in the Duomo all men were urged to put their 
trust in the Lord. 

After much debate over a constitution for the re- 
public, a form of government was drafted after the 
Venetian plan, with modifications to suit the needs 
of Florence. Through Savonarola's influence this 
was adopted. It consisted, first, of a Great Council 
of thirty-two hundred citizens, over twenty-five 
years of age, and of blameless reputation, each one- 
third of whom were to sit six months, in turn, in 
the great Hall of the Cinquecento, built expressly 
for the purpose. 

Next higher than these was the Council of Eighty. 
This, with the concurrence of the Senate, was to de- 
cide all matters too important and intricate for han- 
dling in the larger assembly. This arrangement 
was submitted to the people, and approved as giv- 
ing a fair promise of justice. 

Savonarola's formula for the action of these coun- 
cils was: I, The fear of God and the purification 
of manners. 2. The promotion of the public wel- 
fare before personal interests. 3. A general am- 
nesty to political offenders. 4. No doge, as head 
of the councils. 

Thus, in a very short time — less than one year — 
had Florence secured many important laws and 
regulations tending to insure freedom to her peo- 



84 SAVONAROLA. 

pie ; and the whole had been effected without the 
shedding of one drop of blood. To celebrate this 
victory of liberty over tyranny, and to insure its be- 
ing never forgotten, a statue of Judith slaying Hol- 
ofernes was executed by Donatello, and set up at 
a prominent point in the city. It now stands in 
a portico of the palace, whither it was removed 
upon the downfall of the republic. To the magis- 
trates Savonarola said: ''Levy taxes only on prop- 
erty, thus putting an end to loans and all arbitrary 
imposts, cease from strife, love as brethren." Ad- 
dressing the people, he entreated them to love and 
assist their fellow-citizens. "A son," he urged, "is 
under such obligations to his father that he can 
never do enough for him. Your country is your 
common father. Every one of you is bound to help 
it. Were one of you to say, * I have gained no 
benefit from it,' you would speak ignorantly." 

These and similar exhortations so impressed the 
Seignory that they often sought counsel of Savona- 
rola at San Marco and in the Palazzo. From that 
date he was known in Florence as " II Frate," the 
brother, and all men bowed to his authority. 

His fame for eloquence and oratory was now at 
its zenith. Day after day his impassioned words, 
breathing the vehement spirit of the Old Testament 
prophets, aroused the emotions of the Florentines 
to a height never before — and never after — experi- 
enced by them. Hymns and praises rang in the 
streets which so recently resounded with the wan- 
ton lyrics of Lorenzo. Both sexes dressed in the 
plainest attire. Mothers nursed their own babes, 
instead of committing them to other hands. Nobles, 
scholars, artists, renounced the world to adopt the 
Dominican gown. Even the laws and edicts of the 
day read like paraphrases from the sermons of Sa- 
vonarola. 



THE PREACHER BECOMES THE ADVISER. 85 

There are passages in Savonarola's writings 
which show that, at this hour of wonderful suc- 
cess, he had misgivings as to the consistency of his 
mingling in the strife and turmoil of political life, 
and particularly of dealing witk such matters in 
the pulpit. And more strangely still, he seems to 
have soon satisfied himself that in this, as in other 
things, he was but bowing to the manifest will of 
God. Listen to the fervid outpouring of his mind 
on this point : — 

"I have said : Lord, thou art just, good, almighty. 
Thou art my God. Out of nothing hast thou 
created me. I am but dust and ashes, yet with con- 
fidence will I speak to thee, for thou hast been 
crucified for me. Pardon me if I am too familiar in 
my speech. Lord, thou who directest all things 
well, thou hast deceived me ; thou hast betrayed 
me worse than man was ever betrayed; becaisc, 
though I have long time prayed that thou wouidst 
grant me such grace that I might never be com- 
pelled to aid in the government of others, thou hast 
ordered just the reverse. 

" Little by little hast thou drawn me into the 
snare. Had I seen the snare, perhaps I had not 
been what I am. As the moth which desires the 
light when it sees the burning candle, not knowing 
that it burns, singes its wings, so have I done. 
Thou hast shown me thy light, in which I rejoice 
greatly, and having told me that it is well to make 
manifest thy light for the salvation of men, I have 
plunged into the fire and burned the wings of contem- 
plation. I have entered a vast sea, and with great 
desire I long for the haven, but I see no way to 
return. 

" Oh ! my sweet haven, shall I ever find thee 
more ! Oh, my heart, how hast thou ever suffered 



S6 SAVONAROLA. 

thyself to be drawn away from thy sweet haven ! Oh, 
my soul, look where thou art ! Surely we are in 
the midst of a deep sea, and the w^inds are adverse 
on every side. Lord, I say unto thee, as Jeremiah 
said : ' Lord, thou hast deceived me and I was 
deceived. Thou art stronger than I and hast pre- 
vailed. I am in derision daily. Everyone mocketh 
me, for I cried out ; I cried violence and spoil, 
because the word of the Lord was made a reproach 
unto me and a derision daily.' 

"And again will I say with Jeremiah : * Woe is 
me, my mother, that thou hast borne me a man of 
strife, a man of contention to the whole earth.' 
I would go to the haven and I find not the way. I 
seek rest, but no place of rest can I find. I would 
be at peace and speak no more ; but at peace I can- 
not be, for the word of the Lord is as a fire in my 
heart. His word, if I utter it not, burns my bones 
and my marrow. Well then. Lord, if thou wilt that 
I navigate this deep sea, thy will be done ! " 

At the end of this changeful year, 1494, Savon- 
arola's sermons began to be directly and confessedly 
political. Not that they ceased to set forth the 
subject of religion; this they never failed to do. 
But the political took precedence of the religious 
element in them; and upon political success was 
made largely to depend the success of religion. 




CHxVPTER XII. 

NOONDAY IN FLORENCE. 

OME of the greatest historians and states- 
men of Savonarola's time regarded the con- 
stitution he framed for Florence as the very 
best that could have been devised. Said Sig- 
nor Villari : '* To fully understand the part he took 
in its construction, we must follow up every step 
taken with reading the sermons he preached from 
day to day during the period. And we must also 
follow the debates still preserved in the journals of 
the proceedings, in the archives of the Seignory at 
.the palace. Therein do the citizens use the friar's 
very language, and adduce his very arguments to 
such a degree that one might consider their speeches 
mere repetitions of his sermons. Only after having 
done this are we aware of the extent to which this 
man became the informing soul of the republic." 

The new laws were written in Italian instead of 
Latin, as was the custom during the reign of the 
Medici. This was done that all the people might be 
able to read and understand the laws by which they 
were governed. " In many instances they were 
extracts almost verbatim from the prior's sermons." 
About the close of 1495, the condition of Flor- 
ence was such as to call forth the highest praise 
from Savonarola and the councils. Machiavelli, 
the shrewd but skeptical Florentine secretary, a 
man not likely to overestimate one so incomprehen- 
sible to him as the zealous and unselfish prior of 
San Marco, many times alludes to " the learning, 
prudence, and purity of his mind, ever breathing 

(87) 



88 SAVONAROLA. 

divine virtue,-' and says, '' Of such a man one 
ought never to speak but with reverence." 

But it is Guicciardini who observes of Savonarola 
and the new government : *' Such was the love of 
the Florentines for the liberties bestowed upon them 
in 1494, that no arts, no soothings, no cunning 
devices of the Medici, ever made them forget it." 
He informs Florence : '* You are under heavy obli- 
gations to the friar, who not only arrested the 
tumult in good time, but accomplished that which 
without him could have been accomplished only 
through great disorders and bloodshed." 

Of that highly dramatic era, eminent modern 
Avriters also have spoken in the most laudatory 
words. Francesco Forte, an Italian versed in the 
affairs of his country, remarks : " The reforms in- 
troduced by the friar constituted, perhaps, the most 
just government Florence ever enjoyed in her days 
as a republic ! Italy can boast of few greater men 
than Savonarola, and perhaps not one as great in 
the political history of the Florentine republic." 

But we are most concerned to know what was 
the state of Savonarola's own mind in this hour of 
eminent success. What were his reflections as he 
looked out upon the Florence he had rescued ? Was 
he exultant? Did he break out into rejoicings? 
Could we but see him in his cell, alone with his 
God, we should behold a man bowed under a strong 
conviction of impending evil, soon to break upon 
both Florence and himself Hear his sad words : — 

" I am wearied, O Florence, by my four years of 
increasing discourses, which have only exhausted 
myself, while laboring for you. I have been af- 
flicted with the thought, never absent from my 
mind, of the scourge I see approaching, and of the 
dangers to which it will expose you, if you do not 
turn to the Lord. I pray continually that the joy- 
ful be not changed into sorrowful auguries." 



NOONDAY IN FLORENCE. 89 

It had become his settled conviction that he 
should die a violent death. Frequently he men- 
tioned it. Barely had the Great Council been es- 
tablished — that institution "called forth in obedience 
to the will of God," as he said — when, of a Sunday 
morning, the great cathedral was crowded by thou- 
sands expecting to hear a sermon full of praise and 
triumphant thanksgiving. Did a single such sen- 
tence fall from his lips? Once more hear him: — 

"A young man, leaving his father's house, went 
to fish in the sea. The master of the vessel took 
him far out on the deep; from thence he could no 
longer discern the port, and thereupon he began 
to utter lamentations." Then the great leader 
looked thoughtfully around upon the vast throng 
for a moment, and cried : " O Florence ! that youth 
is now before you. I left my father's house to find 
the harbor of religion, in pursuit only of liberty and 
a quiet life — two things I loved above all others. 
I was then but twenty-three years old. But when 
I began to gain some courage, and to find peace in 
preaching, the Lord led me upon the sea, and 
carried me far out upon the deep, where now I am. 

" I can no longer descry the harbor. I see before 
me threatening tempests and tribulations. The 
wind is driving me farther out. On my right are 
the elect, calling upon me for help. On my left are 
demons and the wicked, tormenting and raging. 
Above me I see everlasting goodness, and thither- 
ward hope encourages me. I see beneath me hell, 
which, from human frailty, I must dread, and into 
which, but for the help of God, I must fall. O 
Lord, whither hast thou led me? 

" I am so fixed that I can no more return to the 
quiet I have left. Why hast thou created me to 
live among the discords of the earth? Once was I 
free. Now am I the slave of everyone. From 



90 SAVONAROLA. 

every side I see war and disorder coming upon me. 
But do you, O my friends! have pity upon me. 
Flowers are good works. Give me flowers. I wish 
for nothing more than that you should do what is 
acceptable to God." 

}■ Greatly agitated, Savonarola paused for a mo- 
ment, then said, *' Now let me have some rest in 
this tempest." Then, recovering himself, he ex- 
claimed : " But what, what, O Lord, shall be the 
reward in the life to come, for those who have 
come out of such a fight victorious ! — It will be 
that which eye hath not seen, nor ear heard — eter- 
nal beatitude. But what is to be the reward in this 
. present life ? ' The servant will not be greater than 
his master,' is the answer of the Lord. 'Thou 
knowest that after I had taught, I was crucified, and 
thus thou wilt suffer martyrdom.' " 

*' O Lord ! Lord ! " he then cried, in tones that 
rang through the Duomo, terrifying every heart in 
the vast audience; ''grant me this martyrdom! 
Let me quickly die for thy sake, as thou hast died 
for me ! Already I see the ax sharpened. But the 
Lord bids me, ' Wait yet awhile, until that be fin- 
ished which must com.e to pass, and then shalt 
thou show that strength of mind which shall be 
given unto thee.' " There was a pause, when Sa- 
vonarola solemnly exclaimed, " Praise the Lord 
for his goodness ! " and resumed his discourse. 

When we come to review the circumstances at- 
tending Savonarola's death, we shall see that this 
simple allegory, in which he represents himself as 
out upon the deep, with demons and the wicked 
raging around him, is almost a photograph of some 
of the actual scenes. Li view of the facts it seems 
almost prophetic. 




CHAPTER XIII. 

THE ENMITY OF THE POPE. 



N January of this year, 1495, Pope Alexan- 
der VI. became much annoyed over a ser- 
y^ mon of Savonarola's, in which he compared 
the church to a fig-tree, which *' in its early days 
produced abundant fruit and no leaves, but after 
lapse of years, as many leaves as figs, and later still, 
leaves only. And not only was this tree fruitless, 
but its overshadowing foliage injured the neighbor- 
ing plants." This unhappy condition of affairs ap- 
peared to move the prior's heart to its very depths. 
*' You cannot doubt," he said, earnestly addressing 
his audience, ** that the gardener will cut down so 
useless a tree and condemn it to the flames." Then, 
no longer using the illustration, he said with great 
effect : — 

"Thus is it with the church. In primitive times 
she yielded abundant fruit, and as it were, no 
leaves ; but she has grievously degenerated, and 
now bears leaves only — fruit none. In other 
words, outward ceremonies abound ; pomp and 
luxury are everywhere, leading men into every 
error. Just as the heavy foliage of the fig-tree 
ruins the adjoining plants, so the prelates of the 
church corrupt other souls by their evil example. 
But this state of things will not last forever. The 
husbandman, that is, Christ, will come and cut 
down the tree; will renew and reform the church." 

Here Savonarola paused, and after a moment, 
in profound accents, said: "When Pope Innocent 

(91) 



92 SAVONAROLA. 

VIII. died, I was laughed at for declaring that the 
church must be reformed. But at that very time 
a vision was granted me. I beheld a black cross 
suspended over Babylonian Rome. Upon it was 
inscribed, ^ The wrath of the Lord.' Around the 
cross gleamed swords, lances, arms of all kinds, 
while there fell hail, lightning, and hot thunder- 
bolts. Then I saw another cross. It was of gold, 
and reached to heaven. It hovered over Jerusalem, 
and bore this inscription, ' The mercy of God.' 
Surrounding it was a serene, limpid, and pure 
atmosphere. From that vision I learn that a ref- 
ormation of the church is not only needed, but 
is at hand." 

The instant effect of that sermon at the Vatican 
was an order commanding Savonarola to preach the 
Lent sermons at Lucca, probably with the intent of 
getting the preacher away from the reach of his 
friends, but by request of the Senate the order was 
withdrawn, and the prior remained in the city. 

The reader will recall Savonarola's early enemy 
at Florence — Mariano Gennezzano. The man was 
now at Rome, and gladly improved the opportu- 
nity that fact gave him, of feeding the enmity 
which daily increased in the heart of Alexander 
against this daring accuser of the church, whom 
he styled "the tool of the devil." Affairs pro- 
ceeded, and on July 25, 1495, Savonarola received 
the subjoined letter from His Holiness. 

" Much-loved Sox : Health and apostolic ben- 
ediction. We hear that among all the laborers in 
the Lord's ^•ineyard, you show the most zeal. 
This greatly delights us, and we give praise for it 
unto Almighty God. We have also heard that 
you affirm that your declarations concerning 
future events do not proceed from yourself, but 
from God ; and therefore, in accordance with the 



THE ENMITY OF THE POPE. 93 

duties of our pastoral office, we would converse 
with thee and thereby know more especially 
what is pleasing to God. Therefore, we exhort 
you that, in the spirit of all holy obedience, you 
come to us without delay, who will receive you 
with love and charity." 

Before replying to this wily letter, Savonarola 
preached a remarkable sermon in the Duomo, in 
which he warned the people of dangers threatening 
the republic, especially from the Arrabbiati, and 
from Pietro de Medici, who was plotting a scheme 
for his return to Florence. 

The church was thronged. Dispirited and ap- 
prehensive, weak and trembling, he ascended the 
pulpit. He had much to say to Florence, for he 
was about to leave the city for awhile, to re- 
gain strength. Among the matters which sorely 
troubled him was the failure of Charles VIII. to 
fulfill the mission on which, as Savonarola firmly 
believed, God had brought him into Italy — that of 
being, first, the instrument of punishment to the 
country, and then its restorer to a nobler condition. 
This omission, the prior well knew, gave tempting 
occasion to the unbelievers in his own divine mis- 
sion, to plot for his downfall, and through that for 
the overthrow of the republic. 

No sooner, however, had he begun to speak 
than he seemed to be animated by a sudden bap- 
tism of the Spirit, and poured forth a torrent of 
fearless condemnation of vice, and declaration of 
judgment to come, upon those who wickedly 
should disturb the peace of Florence. The sermon 
was replete with advice upon practical affairs. 
At its close he took leave of his hearers in this 
singular manner: — 

"My people, when I am in this pulpit, I feel 
myself to be in a sound state; and could I con- 



94 SAVONAROLA. 

tinue to feel so when absent from it, I should ever 
be strong. But I leave it now to attend to my 
health. It will be some time before I see you 
again. If I live, I shall resum.e preaching. During 
my absence, Fra Domenico Avill preach. I think I 
must rest for a month, unless your prayers restore 
me sooner. And now I must conclude, for I have 
preached until I am quite exhausted, and thus 
have shortened my life by many years." Then, 
ceasing to address his audience, he suddenly asked: 
*'Well, then, friar, what reward do you wish to 
receive?" "1 wish to receive martyrdom. I am 
willing to undergo it. I pray for it daily," was his 
unhesitating reply. 

Many similar tragic declarations did the highly 
imaginative Dominican utter between this date and 
his sad end. One cannot but question the wisdom 
of them. That very day men listened to his 
avowal that he wished for martyrdom who were 
not the least unwilling his desire should be grati- 
fied, and yet who, up to that moment, perhaps, 
had not thought of such a death for the dictator 
of Florence. Moreover, in the pontifical chair at 
Rome, sat one who was not likely to deny the 
privilege of martyrdom to any aspirant for the 
favor. In the end he was but too delighted to 
honor Savonarola in this respect. 

Three days after this discourse, the prior replied 
to the Pope's letter. We append a few sentences, 
which indicate its tone throughout. Savonarola 
informed his holiness that he " had long desired to 
visit Rome, especially that he might tread where 
had walked St. Peter and St. Paul. But many ob- 
stacles stood in the way of the accomplishment of 
this wish — causes anyone must consider reasona- 
ble. Plis bodily infirmity and agitation of mind, 
caused by i)verexertion in behalf of the State, was 



THE ENMITY OF THE POPE. 95 

chief among them. In obedience to the command 
of his physician, he had determined to omit preach- 
ing and all severe study for a while." 

Finally, referring to dangers which at times had 
threatened him, he continued: "Although I place 
my trust in the Lord, I consider that I ought not 
to tempt him by omitting due caution, even as it is 
written, ' If they persecute you in one city, flee ye 
into another.' " Then he calls the magnate's at- 
tention to a "little book he has lately written, which 
will inform him in reference to his preaching upon 
the events which would bring ruin upon the coun- 
try, and then renovation of the church." 

In Florence there existed at this time three politi- 
cal parties, which we now find it needful to define. 
First, there were the Piagnoni, the steadfast friends 
of Savonarola, and the fervent advocates of liberty. 
They were the largest and most powerful body. 
As one man they were united in restoring the re- 
public and in opposing the popular vices. They 
exerted vast influence from this time until the close 
of the Florentine commonwealth. Peculiar and 
plain in dress, they were everywhere easily recog- 
nized. Stern in manners, strict in discipline, their 
only weapons of warfare were prayer and the sermons 
of Savonarola. 

The Arrabbiati constituted the second faction. 
They embraced the higher class only, and were 
distinguished for excesses in every abominable vice. 
They opposed equally Savonarola and the Medici. 
An oligarchy was their beau ideal of a government. 
Their hatred of the austere Piagnoni was of course 
bitter. For their rigid morals and democratic prin- 
ciples, Arrabbiati contempt was supreme. 

The third and weakest order, called the Bigi, in- 
cluded the Medici and their adherents. Usually, 
though not always, the Piagnoni and the Bigi 
united in opposing the Arrabbiati. 



g6 SAVONAROLA. 

It startles us to learn that even while Savonarola 
was answering the Pope's letter, the corrupt Arrab- 
biati were scheming to silence forever his offending 
tongue. This fact, Avith utter distrust of Alexan- 
der's affectionate lines, made the Piagnoni tremble 
for the prior's safety, should he leave Florence. 
They believed that, should he even start for Rome, 
he would be either snatched up on the way, or be 
tendered the hospitalities of a dungeon in the castle 
of St. Angelo the moment he entered the gates of 
the city. Therefore his illness was a cause of sin- 
cere rejoicing to his friends. 

Matters rested until September, 1495, when the 
Pope, still mindful of his victim, sent to the friars of 
Santa Croce, in Florence, a brief, mentioning " a 
certain friar Girolamo, a disseminator of false doc- 
trines." From Santa Croce the brief was forwarded 
to Savonarola. This was but a step in the Pope's 
plan. He knew well that the prior of San Marco 
was a Dominican, not a Franciscan, and he also 
knew that the two orders were not on good terms, 
and to promote his own schemes, thus fanned the 
fire of ill-will. 

Of this artful paper Savonarola wisely took no 
notice, but, alluding to it shortly before his death, 
he asked: "Why was it addressed to the mon- 
astery of Santa Croce while intended for San Marco ? 
And why did it mention ' a certain Girolamo,' as if 
he were not well known ? " 

In October he resumed his pulpit labors. The first 
three sermons were like shells thrown into the 
Medician camp, and demolished Pietro's project for 
re-entering Florence. Their effect was felt in Rome 
also, for on November 4 came a decisive command 
from the Pope to cease entirely from preaching. 

To Savonarola the evidently growing hostility of 
Alexander was a deep affliction. To become the 



THE ENMITY OF THE POPE. 9/ 

Opponent of the head of the church was to occupy 
a position from which his very soul drew back. 
And amid the conflicting circumstances he was not 
quite sure of his path. But, whatever might be the 
issue to himself, the church of Christ must not suf- 
fer. Therefore he obeyed. But in a short time he 
was putting forth all his strength, together with the 
cardmal of San Pietro, in Vincoli — afterward Pope 
Julius II. — toward convening a council to depose 
Alexander, whose election, all Italy knew, had been 
carried only by bribery. 

To call this council seems to have been the duty, 
or the office, of King Charles, who was rather dis- 
posed to comply with the cardinal's hot pleading 
for the step; for Guicciardini records that, when 
Charles passed through Rome during his invasion 
of Italy, not less than eighteen cardinals were long 
closeted with him, discussing the measure, and also 
that ever-crying need, church reform, Julius himself 
being one of the conclave. But the king never 
came to the point of incurring the responsibility, 
and the council never was called. 

At this trying period Savonarola's brother Borso 
died. To his mother this was a severe stroke. It 
called forth from Savonarola a letter to her, ex- 
pressed in a charming way. There was no one 
upon the earth so dear to him as his mother. How 
keenly, then, must it have tried him to close his 
letter with this announcement, after recurring to 
Florentine affairs: " I feel sure that my death is not 
far distant, and I would that your faith were so 
strong that, like the holy Hebrew Voman, of whom 
we read in the Old Testament, you might look with 
dry eyes upon your son's suffering and martyrdom 
before your eyes. My dearest mother, I have not 
thus written to pain you, or in forgetfulness of your 
grief, but in order that, should it happen to me as 
I expect, you may be prepared for it all." 




CHAPTER XIV. 

LENT IN FLORENCE IN 1496. 



HE Pope's interdict of Savonarola's preach- 
ing was withdrawn just before Lent, 1496, 
and on the 17th of February he preached the 
first of* his famous discourses of that season. 
Almost simultaneously, with the advice of an influ- 
ential Dominican bishop, Alexander tendered the 
prior of San Marco a cardinal's hat, with the sug- 
gestion that he modify somewhat the tone of his 
sermons. "Come to my next sermon, and you 
shall hear my reply to Rome," was his fearless an- 
swer; and on the following Sunday, in tones of 
thunder, he proclaimed from the cathedral pulpit : 
" I will have no hat but one dyed with my blood." 

Not long was this answer in traveling to Rome, 
and through all Italy. And ever}^body now knew 
that henceforth a deadly conflict would exist be- 
tween the humble monk and the occupant of the 
chair of St. Peter. Day after day throngs filled the 
Duomo, eager to hear the voice which Rome could 
-silence only in death. Multitudes could not gain 
entrance to the church. Not only men and women 
but hosts of children came to listen. 

These were the children who, at the May festival 
preceding — only because the great man asked it — 
had collected money for the poor; had sung his sweet 
hymns instead of the impure ballads of Lorenzo de 
Medici; had given up their cruel custom of throw- 
ing stones, whereby always some citizens lost their 

(98) 



LENT IN FLORENCE. 99 

lives, and had turned the last great day of the car- 
nival into a blessing — because the friar wished it; 
because he had said : " God loves you, and you 
ought not to grieve him by doing any wrong 
thing." 

Savonarola loved the children; was glad they 
came to hear him; and hoped they would hear that 
which they would never forget. So within the 
great Duomo were erected for these children sev- 
enteen rows of seats, leading up to the first row of 
windows. Here they sat, quiet and very attentive. 
Often did the man whose words were stirring all 
Italy turn to these children, and, addressing them, 
utter teachings they could understand. 

Never had his words produced such effect as 
now, on friend or foe, and repeated were the plots 
to assassinate him on the way to or from the cathe- 
dral. But armed friends in homely garb surrounded 
him. Blows aimed at him must first strike them. 
One with him they were in spirit and purpose of 
life, and never were friends more devoted. They 
were the Piagnoni. 

Artists of every class were among the attendants 
during this Lent, — painters, sculptors, architects, en- 
gravers, — all of highest renown. ''For eight consec- 
utive years was Fra Bartolommeo ever to be seen in 
his seat," listening, absorbed, to words cherished to 
the last hour. Bartolommeo, celebrated especially 
for the refined beauty of his Madonnas, was but 
twenty -three years old when he began to attend the 
prior's services. He loved to depict sacred subjects, 
and was engaged in painting a fresco — the Last 
Judgment — in the church of San Marco, when Sa- 
vonarola preached a mighty sermon on the iniquity 
of the day. No class escaped his scathing words. 
Like the edge of a sword they cut Pope and peo- 



lOO SAVONAROLA. 

pie, the Medici, the affluent Florentines, any who 
debased art. 

Bartolommeo, sadly perplexed by this sermon, 
never added another touch to his Last Judgment. 
True, he loved what was pure and beautiful in art, 
but some of his works were of the class unsparingly 
condemned by the preacher. These, every one, he 
destroyed, and warmly united with Savonarola in 
his desire to reform art. This great painter was 
one of the hundreds of citizens who, for the defense 
of the prior, made their way to San Marco on that 
long-remembered' day when the Arrabbiati be- 
sieged the convent, and with frightful cries de- 
manded that Savonarola be given up to them. 

That 1 7th of February, to which we have referred, 
was a grave and momentous day. Savonarola knew 
that the series of discourses would add tenfold to 
Alexander's wrath. Before the hour for him to 
leave the cloister, the Seignory dispatched officers 
to guard the way to the Duomo. Instantly, upon 
his leaving his cell, his body-guard closed around 
him. He reached the cathedral in safety. Thou- 
sands awaited him. Slowly, as if weak in body, he 
climbed the pulpit stairs. But once in the loved 
spot, he was strength itself. Slowly surveying the 
audience, his eyes glowing like living coals, he 
stood a moment deeply moved, and then began his 
discourse in the form of a dialogue with himself 

But soon dropping this style, he stated that, hav- 
ing carefully examined all his teachings, he had 
reached the firm conviction that he had ''taught 
only what the holy Catholic Church believes," not- 
withstanding his doctrine had been so obnoxious to 
the Pope. Then he boldly announced that he was 
not bound to obey the commands of ecclesiastical 
superiors, "not even those of the Pope, if they are 



LENT IN FLORENCE. lOI 

contrary to charity or the gospel." '' I believe," he 
continued, '' the Pope would not wish me to do so, 
but should he, I should reply: 'Thou art not a 
good shepherd. Thou art in error.' 

'*As to my not obeying the order to come to 
Rome," he explained, " I did not consider myself 
bound to obey a command which the whole city of 
Florence, down to the simplest maiden, knew pro- 
ceeded from political hatred. Did I think my 
leaving Florence would be for its good, I would 
willingly go ; but not believing this, I will not obey 
the order of any living man." 

During this series of sermons, to be the most 
famous of his life, Savonarola proposed to consider 
a wide range of topics, and in this initial one, he 
touched upon most of these themes. And through- 
out the discourse, the independence of his utter- 
ances amazed friend and foe. His words were 
aflame with truth and courage. Never had he 
spoken anything at all comparable to the opinions 
he now expressed 

At one point he burst out with the question : " I 
ask thee, Rome, how is it possible that thou canst 
still exist? By night thy priests are sunk in the 
lowest depths of vice. Next morning they read 
mass and celebrate the sacraments. At Rome all 
is venal. Every position is put up for sale. Even 
the blood of Christ is to be had for money." Then, 
turning to the audience, he said: — 

** Ye are corrupt in everything ; in your speak- 
ing and in your silence; in what you do, in what 
you do not do ; in your belief and your unbelief. 
You declaim against prophecy. Yet someone tells 
you a strange dream, and you believe him. You 
fast on a certain Saturday, under the belief that 
you will be saved. I tell you, the Lord desires not 



102 SAVONAROLA. 

either certain days or certain hours, but that in 
every day of your hfe you should flee from sin. 
But you are good one hour of the day that you 
may be wicked the rest of your Hves. See what 
took place during the last three days of Holy Week 
— such running after indulgences and pardons ! 
such kissing of the images of St. Peter and St. Paul, 
of this saint and of that ! such coming and going, 
ringing of bells, decking out of altars, and adorning 
of altars ! All this for three days before Easter, but 
no longer. God is indifferent to these your doings, 
because you will be more wicked after Easter than 
before." 

A little later in the series, he electrified his hear- 
ers by exclaiming: "What if I should aiik you to 
give me ten ducats for the poor ! You would not. 
But should I command, ' Lay out an hundred duc- 
ats on the chapel of San Marco,' you would. Yes, 
not for the honor of God, but for putting up there 
your armorial bearings ! Look around the con- 
vents. You see their walls covered with coats-of- 
arms. Upon looking up at what is over the door 
of the convent, I fancied I should see a crucifix, 
and it was a coat-of-arms ! Once more I look up, 
and again a coat-of-arms. Nothing else is to be 
seen, I observe some drapery, and conclude it cov- 
ers the painting of a crucifix, but I find a coat-of- 
arms. These, these are the idols to whom your 
sacrifices are offered." 

Each of these sermons, as we might expect, 
prophesied vehemently of coming evil. Savonarola 
repeatedly assured his auditors that a terrible pesti- 
lence would desolate Florence. "Be assured," he 
said, ** there will not be left here people enough to 
bury the dead, and there will be no means for hav- 
ing numerous burials. So many deaths will there 



LENT IN FLORENCE. IO3 

be that men will go through the streets, crying 
with loud voice: 'Who has any dead? Who has 
any dead? ' And people will run out of their homes 
saying : ' Here is my son ; here is my brother ; 
here is my husband.' So thinned will the popula- 
tion become that very few will remain." 

One can readily imagine the effect of such pre- 
dictions. And in such an age, its almost immediate 
fulfillment was necessary to awaken confidence in 
the prophet. Otherwise there would be aroused 
against him a very frenzy of indignation, which only 
his blood could allay. 

Ere this Lent closed, the new hall for the ''Great 
Council " was completed, and to the occasion Sa- 
vonarola devoted two of his sermons. They were 
confined exclusively to political affairs, and cer- 
tainly were replete with advice worthy to be 
adopted by any state, in any age. The place of 
meeting was transferred from the Duomo to the 
Great Hall. Seventeen hundred persons convened 
to hear him, and everything conspired to render 
the event one of lively joy to the prior. It was 
February 25, 1496. Referring, among other topics 
of interest, to that of the Florentine elections, he 
heartily denounced the party spirit they had pre- 
viously excited, together with the custom of circu- 
lating hand-bills in which certain persons were de- 
nounced as unfit for official positions. " You ought," 
he said, " to pay no regard to these hand-bills. If 
you have good reason to believe that a candidate is 
a bad man, say so openly. Frankly declare your 
opinion that such a man is not the right one for the 
office proposed for him. But if he be a right man, 
elect him." Directly addressing the Piagnoni, he 
said : — 

" I fear some of the council have said of a cer- 



104 SAVONAROLA. 

tain candidate, ' He is a friend of the friar, let us 
eive him a black bean ' " — a black bean in the Flor- 
entine elections stood for an affirmative vote. " Is 
this the lesson I have taught you ? — My only 
friends are Christ and he who does what is right. 
Such a course will immediately create divisions. 
Let every elector give his vote to whomsoever, in 
his conscience, he believes to be a good and pru- 
dent man." 

If these words of the actual, but not official, 
dictator of Florence were honest words — and who 
can say they were not? — they were the words of an 
incorruptible patriot. No spirit of self-seeking 
tainted his motives. For the welfare of Florence, 
and at the call of God, as he persuaded himself, 
Savonarola — though the doing so grieved his in- 
most soul — Avould try to serve both church and 
state, sadly forgetting that the great Head of the 
church himself had said, " Ye cannot serve two 
masters." 

It is remarked that every person w4io bore any 
part in the construction of that vast hall was an 
adherent of Savonarola. Its erection was super- 
vised by Cronaca, a celebrated architect of that day. 
Michael Angelo was among the first conferred with 
in reference to it, and an altar-piece was painted for 
it by Fra Bartolommeo. At first it grew but slowly. 
Finally certain pulpit talks of Savonarola incited 
Cronaca to greater effort, and so remarkable now 
was his progress that observers remarked, " The 
angels have come to assist him." 

The effect of these Lent sermons moved the 
Florentines wonderfully. Thereupon Savonarola 
thought he might carry out any plan he chose to 
adopt. Palm Sunday was drawing nigh, and he de- 
termined to arrange for a procession of children on 



LENT IN FLORENCE. IO5 

that day. It was a parade of boys only. Eight 
thousand formed the impressive spectacle. They 
were the material upon which Savonarola built his 
hopes for the future of Florence. ''The clergy and 
monks of the various orders, in full canonicals, fol- 
lowed the boys, and after them a vast multitude of 
citizens — men and women, old and young, rich and 
poor. A great company of young girls robed in white 
and crowned with garlands of snowy flowers — their 
mothers accompanying them — closed the procession. 
As it moved along, hymns were chanted, patriotic 
songs were sung, and the bells pealed forth their 
joyous tones." 

Arrived at the Duomo, Savonarola tenderly ad- 
dressed the children some time, and closed the exer- 
cises with an urgent appeal to the people of Flor- 
ence to ''accept Christ as their king." And here 
the great prior of San Marco forgot that Christ had 
declared, "My kingdom is not of this world." 

But a little subsequent to this event, when speak- 
ing of the perpetuity of the church, he once more 
alluded to his own death, which he felt assured was 
just at hand, saying, as if to himself: "What then 
will be the end of the war you are keeping up ? 
If you ask rne what will be the general end, I an- 
swer, Victory! But if you ask what will be the end 
to me in particular, I answer, Death. DeatJi but 
not extinction. Death first, resurrection afterward. 
Rome shall not quench this fire, as she will try to 
do; if she quenches if for a time, another and 
stronger fire will break out. I am but an instru- 
ment in the hand of the Lord. I am determined to 
fight to the last." 

Amos and Zechariah furnished the texts for the 
sermons of this Lent. Far and wide did their fame 
spread. The Sultan at Constantinople ordered 



I06 SAVONAROLA. 

them to be translated into the Turkish language 
that he himself might read them. No previous 
efforts of the friar had produced such an impression. 
His enemies were simply furious, Avhile the devo- 
tion of his friends exceeded all bounds. Alexander 
was enraged. The princes of Italy strongly con- 
demned them; those of Germany eagerly read them. 
Into France and England also they made their way. 
We have mentioned Colet, the Oxford reformer, as 
one who listened to Savonarola's preaching about 
this time. It is quite certain that he was in Italy in 
1496, and more than probable that he heard these 
thrilling Lent sermons. With the Piagnoni they 
increased his esteem many fold, II Moro, Duke of 
Milan, one of the wounded princes, called forth 
from the misrepresented preacher this reply, *' I 
allude to all persons, to none individually." 

When the infuriated Borgia — Pope Alexander 
VI. — was reminded that he had given the prior per- 
mission to resume preaching, he retorted: "Well, 
well, we will not now talk about Friar Girolamo. 
Erelong there will be a fitter opportunity." To 
hasten this *' opportunity," he soon convened a 
consistory of fourteen Dominicans to investigate 
Savonarola's conduct and doctrines, that he might 
find whereof to accuse him. Thirteen of these com- 
passionate brethren found him guilty — of what? — 
" Of being the cause of all the evil that had befallen 
the house of Medici ! " 

Soon another fatal step was taken. During this 
year, 1496, was formed what is known in Italian 
history as " The Holy League." The parties to 
the alliance were Alexander VI.; Maximilian, king 
of the Romans; Ferdinand and Isabella, of Spain ; 
Henry VII., of England ; the Siegnory^ of Venice, 
and II Moro, Duke of Milan. The design of this 



LENT IN FLORENCE. 10/ 

league was ''the maintenance of the rights of the 
Holy Roman Empire and the Papal See, and the 
defense and preservation of the separate parties/ 
From this coalition Florence kept clear, adhering 
to her French ally, Charles VIII. This decision 
brought herself and Savonarola — her adviser — into 
the position of conspirators against Rome, Naples, 
Milan, and the Pope above all others. On the 31st 
of July, the conditions of the league were pub- 
lished simultaneously in Rome, Naples, and Venice. 
At Venice they were proclaimed in the great church 
of St. Mark. High mass was celebrated by the 
patriarch. For three days the bells were rung and 
bonfires were lighted. 

In the midst of this turmoil, the man conspicuous 
above all others in Italy, calmly wrote his com- 
mentary upon the eightieth psalm. He preached 
less frequently now, but when he did, his themes 
were drawn from the books of Ruth and Micah. 
On one occasion, upon entering the pulpit of the 
Duomo, he exclaimed: *' Here we are still. We 
have not fled. I cannot exist without preaching, 
and am come in obedience to Him who is Prelate 
of prelates and Pope of popes." Then he earnestly 
besought the Lord to send his Holy Spirit down 
upon the church. 

About this date the Seignory requested him to 
preach before the magistrates and chief citizens. 
He took the occasion to review his past life, and to 
refute the charges constantly brought against him, 
saying : — 

"My enemies go about crying: 'The friar wants 
money. He has secret correspondence ' — meaning, 
probably, with the Medici — 'The friar wants a car- 
dinal's hat.' I tell you that if such were the case, 
you would not now see me with a ragged cloak." 



I08 SAVONAROLA. 

Then, addressing the Divine One, he cried : " I wish 
to glorify myself in thee and in thee alone. I wish 
neither miter nor hat. I desire that only which 
thou hast bestowed upon the saints — death." 

In September a brief was issued by the Pope, 
annexing the Convent of San Marco to the vicarate 
of Lombardy, thus placing the contumacious friar 
under control of the vicar-general of the Lom- 
bard Congregation, and requiring him to submit 
meekly to his authority, to go wherever ordered, 
and to " abstain from preaching both in public and 
private." At a glance Savonarola saw the object 
of this union of convents. If the Congregation of 
San Marco Avere dissolved, his authority as friar 
would necessarily cease. And if, in obedience to 
the Pope, he left Tuscany — "go wherever he was 
sent" — he should inevitably fall into the hands of 
Alexander Borgia. 

In reply he "regretted that the Holy Father had 
been so deceived with regard to him. As to doc- 
trines, he had preached only what the church 
taught. And respecting prophecy, he had never ex- 
plicitly claimed to be a prophet. It would not be 
heresy if he had. He had indeed predicted many 
things. Some had come to pass, others would. 
But to remit their cause to the Lombard Congrega- 
tion, would be to abandon them to the adversary; 
for, as everybody knew, controversy existed between 
the two congregations. In conclusion, he prayed 
His Holiness to grant him " an answer and full ab- 
solution," adding that he was "willing to submit . 
himself and his writings to the correction of the 
Holy Roman Church." 

Here again Savonarola's inconsistency palpably 
appears. In the pulpit of the Duomo, \vhere 
hundreds could hear his defiant words, he nobly 



LENT IN FLORENCE. IO9 

asserts that he will "submit to no man'/ lie will 
"fight to the end;" but in the silence of his cell at 
San Marco, with none but the Pope to read, he 
craves full absolution from papal lips, submits his 
works to the correction of the church, which really 
means submitting them to the Pope. 

Still, from his letter the shrewd Alexander must 
have inferred that Savonarola would neither dissolve 
his congregation of convents, nor himself leave 
Florence. So he made the best of the situation, and 
in a reply dated October i6, expressed his "joy at 
the recovery of the lost sheep," adding: "We have 
in other letters manifested our grief over those tu- 
mults in Florence, of which thy sermons have been 
the chief cause, for, instead of preaching against 
vice and urging union, you have announced future 
events — a course sure to create discord, especially 
in Florence, where the seeds of faction are so thickly 
sown. For these reasons you have been pressed to 
come to Rome. But now we are fully persuaded 
that our good son has erred more from oversim- 
plicity than from an evil mind." 

Then followed the repeated command "to ab- 
stain from preaching, in public and private, so that 
none might say his church had been turned into a 
conventicle." After which he expressed his "ear- 
nest longing to behold his beloved son in the holy 
city, and promised him a joyful reception." 

Did these velvet words deceive Savonarola? — 
Not in the least. He knew exactly what estimate 
to place on all the Pope's paternal expressions. 
Barely had this letter arrived, when there came a 
document from the Florentine ambassador at Rome, 
annoiincing that the Pope toiled night and day to 
accomplish the friar's death. 




CHAPTER XV. 

THE CARNIVAL OF 1497. 

HE close of the year 1496 was freighted 
with events trying to Savonarola, and 

^^ threatening to the peace of Florence. The 
Pope's bull of September 16, commanding the friar 
to cease preaching altogether, was quickly followed 
by the papal letter of October 16, reiterating the in- 
junction. Naturally, these papers caused long and 
painful thought on the part of Savonarola, and deep 
anxiety in the minds of his friends. Should he re- 
sist these commands, or be silent ? Himself only 
considered, he would resist them, but he could not 
bring reproach upon the church. The bare thought 
of that was misery to him. For the present, at least, 
he would be quiet. 

About this time, the king of the Romans — 
urged to the step by Venice and Milan, in the hope 
that Florence would thus be forced to join the 
Holy League of which we have spoken — threatened 
to invade Italy. Florence expended vast sums of 
money in preparations to repel him. Happily, a 
depleted treasury kept Maximilian at home. Great 
was the delight of Florence over her escape from 
war. Manifestly, the divine hand had saved her. 
But scarcely had the horrors of invasion been 
averted, ere famine was at the door. Daily the sup- 
ply of food diminished. Ships laden with corn for 
the relief of the city, were detained by contrary 
winds. And now in the streets of Florence was 
(no) 



THE CARNIVAL. Ill 

heard the predicted cry: ''Bring out your dead." 
Famished women and tender children died by the 
roadside. Misery made all faces wan and pale; rich 
and poor suffered alike. Over all this agony the 
Arrabbiati rejoiced. The calamity would prove to 
Florence that her great prophet was false. She 
had not prospered. 

In such an extremity what was Savonarola's 
duty ? Urged by the Seignory, and by his com- 
passion for the people burning like a fire within 
him, he set the papal mandate at defiance and 
appeared in the pulpit of the Duomo. How great 
was the change six weeks had made in his audi- 
ence ! Many were the vacant seats. The dejected 
air of those present spoke of suffering and hunger. 
In the audience were numbers of the Arrabbiati. 
Savonarola read their thoughts, and soon took 
occasion to ask : " Upon what terms was this pros- 
perity promised ? — Terms which Florence has not 
fulfilled — repentance for her evil doings. This 
must be your first work," and now, as ever before, 
repentance was faithfully urged. 

Then he reminded them of the quiet revolution ; 
of the day they became a free people ; of the exit 
of Charles VIII., and urged them to believe his 
words now, as then, saying : " Put your trust in 
the Lord, I earnestly long to see the whole city 
turning to God." Those who trusted him left the 
church comforted. The Arrabbiati went out to 
invent new schemes for his destruction. 

Two days later, word reached Florence that 
ships laden with corn, which were believed to have 
been lost, had reached Leghorn. Thereat, even 
his enemies admitted that Savonarola had this 
time proved himself a prophet indeed. The moral 
effect of this timely relief, in the cheerfulness of the 
people, was most grateful to Savonarola. 



I I 2 SAVONAROLA. 

The hour of adversity over, the friar returned 
to his cloister, soon to be visited with a terrific 
blow from Alexander, and attended by such de- 
mand Mpon San Marco as its prior at once deter- 
mined to resist. He could not, as he wrote, '' be 
terrified by threats of excommunication to do that 
which would be poison and perdition to his own 
soul and to those of his brethren. We must re- 
sist, if we cannot prevail to have the demand with- 
drawn. We must do as did St. Paul, who, at 
Antioch, withstood Peter face to face, because he 
was to be blamed." Thus did the conflict open 
with the Pope, and near the end of November, 
Savonarola entered the pulpit. Thus closed 1496. 
Friends and foes, equally, now believed the man's 
death assured and close at hand. 

Savonarola now appointed Fra Domenico over 
the spiritual affairs of the convent, that he himself 
might put forth all his energies toward finishing 
his "Triumph of the Cross," believing his time was 
short. 

A little later the carnival of 1497 drew nigh. 
Savonarola determined to celebrate it in a manner 
Florence had never witnessed. And to this day 
she remembers it. Some others also recall it — not 
with approbation, but with astonishment. At that 
period, probably no other city excelled Florence 
in wealth. It was replete with luxury. 

Among the carnival customs was the making of 
bonfires on the plaza in the evening of Shrove 
Tuesday, and the dancing around them while sing- 
ing songs. The reader will recall that at the last 
carnival, a great reform was affected through the 
children. This year Savonarola determined a more 
sweeping change should take place. To this end 
he enlisted, under the generalship of Fra Domen- 



THE CARNIVAL. 113 

ico, a band of youths, who should traverse the city, 
" dressed as angels, and calling from door to door 
for whatsoever articles were calculated to rninister 
to luxury, or worldliness, to be consumed upon 
the bonfire." 

Many delivered up their possessions, while others 
considered these '' angels" a most unheavenly order. 
However, the amount of trinkets, ornaments, 
money, books of bad tendency, pictures, sculpt- 
ures, and designs accumulated, was marvelous. 
An immense scaffolding, pyramidal in form, with 
fifteen tiers of shelves arranged around it, was 
erected on the plaza chosen for the grand display. 
The pyramid was filled with fagots; and the 
shelves, with the articles to be destroyed. Many 
of them were the works of famous artists and 
writers. Bartolommeo and Lorenzo di Credi con- 
tributed many of their designs. 

Women contributed to the senseless waste, 
costly India shawls, expensive perfumes, and other 
articles innumerable. Men increased the flames 
with chess-boards, cards, card-tables, and instru- 
ments of music. Burlamacchi relates that for the 
collection, before the torch was applied, a mer- 
chant of Venice offered nearly twenty thousand 
pounds sterling. But his offer was rejected, and 
the man's portrait — placed above the colossal fig- 
ure intended to personify the carnival — was burned 
therewith. ''A wild mob danced around the 
blazing pile to the music of trumpets. 

This example of wild excess was followed by 
others yet more humiliating. Savonarola had 
condemned most worldly amusements as being 
contrary to the mind of God; but dancing, he 
thought, might be consecrated to his service. 
With this view, he employed a notable poet to 



114 SAVONAROLA. 

write what he called " Sacred Words, " to be sung 
to favorite airs while the people danced. On one 
occasion, even the friars of San Marco came forth 
from their cells and danced with the citizens, form- 
ing immense circles by joining hands. 

From this hour, even in dissolute Florence, the 
tide of popular esteem turned strongly against 
Savonarola. His political influence, even, began 
to decline. Referring to these scenes of extrava- 
gance in conduct, a writer remarks: " How humil- 
iating to see a man of deep learning, full of zeal 
for the honor of God and for the crood of men, led 
by monkish fanaticism to regard as an act of 
piety that which was but a burlesque on religion." 

In terms of increased severity now, the prior 
accused priests and friars of "driving the people, 
by the influence of pernicious example, into the 
sepulcher of ceremonies." "I tell you," he said, 
"this sepulcher must be broken up. It is the will 
of Christ that the church should be renovated in 
its spirit. A\^hat does the church herself say? 
Listen, and I will tell you. ' He who has money 
ma}- enter and do what he lists.' But what sa}'s 
the Lord? * Behold, I will stretch forth my hand 
and come upon thee, thou degraded one.' " 

Alluding to the expected papal excommunica- 
tion, he cried : "As for me, I pray thee, O Lord, 
that it may come quickly. I know there is one at 
Rome daily striving to injure me, but he is not 
actuated by zeal for religion, he is sunk in servility 
to great lords." Savonarola refers to his old 
enemy Mariano Gennezzano, of whose scheming to 
extinguish him he was ever aware. " I can- tell 
you the party at Rome does not do my bidding. 
If flattery had beew my habit, I had not now been 
in Florence." Savonarola, no doubt, here alludes 



THE CARXIV.\L. II5 

to the offer of a cardinal's hat, made him about a 
year previously. "But, O Lord, such things form 
no part of my desires. Thy cross is all I desire 
Cause me to be persecuted. I ask that I may shed 
my blood for thee, as thou didst thine for me." 
Then, pausing a moment, he added, addressing the 
friars, " ^ly sons, cast away all doubt, for we shall 
surely have the support of the Lord." 

Thus did this devoted, truly worthy, but some- 
times ver}' injudicious, ser\-ant of the Lord, seek to 
fortify himself for the sore conflict upon which he 
had entered. Although forbidden to preach either 
in public or private, he yet resolved to disobey the 
interdict and preach on the coming Ascension-day, 
May 4, 1497, and for days previously busied him- 
self with his sermon for the occasion. And preach 
he did. 





CHAPTER XVI. 

ASCENSION-DAY.— THE WRATH OF THE POPE. 



VERY day now increased the activity of 
Savonarola's foes. On the evening preced- 
ing Ascension-day, some of the more rabid 
of his opponents, aided by a maker of fire- 
works, contrived a scheme by which the pulpit of the 
Duomo and its occupant might be blown to atoms 
during the service next day. But the diabolical 
plan was abandoned in consideration of the hundreds 
of innocent lives that would be sacrificed. 

Suspecting some such dire project, Savonarola's 
friends besought him to abandon his purpose of 
preaching. With exalted courage he answered: " I 
cannot, through fear of man, leave the congregation 
without a sermon on the day upon which the Lord 
commanded his disciples to go preach his doctrines 
throughout the world." To such a reply his friends 
were dumb. They left him to his sermon, while 
they betook themselves to concerting measures for 
his protection. 

Upon entering the Duomo very early next morn- 
ing, they found the pulpit spread with an ass' skin, 
through which fine nails had been driven with 
points upward, that his hand might be pierced if 
struck upon them. These were quietly removed, 
and at the hour for service a strong escort con- 
ducted Savonarola to the church. A vast throng 
crowded the structure. Half the multitude were 
Arrabbiati. There were present many of the Com- 
pagnacci — dissolute aristocrats — in fine attire. In 

(ii6) 



THE WRATH OF THE POPE. 11^ 

striking contrast were the hundreds of Piagnoni, 
simply clad, appearing like genuine worshipers. 

The sermon was unusually impressive, but still 
neither calculated to allay the fears of those who 
loved him, nor to diminish the hostility of those 
who sought his life. First, he uttered a few words 
on faith, which, as he said, " can do all things, 
overcome all things, regard with indifference this 
life, sure of that which is to come," and then boldly, 
but unwisely, resumed his old style. *' The times 
often foretold are now at hand, when it will appear 
who is devoted to the Lord. The wicked thought 
to prevent my preaching to-day. They know that 
from fear of man, I never failed to do my duty. 
There is not on earth the man who can say he has 
seen me so fail. I am quite prepared to lay down 
my life in the discharge of my duty. 

" O Lord ! free me from those who call me a 
seducer. Set my soul free. For my body I have 
no fear. I call the Lord, the virgin, the angels, the 
saints, to witness that the things revealed by me 
have come from God, that I have received them by 
divine inspiration, in long-protracted vigils, for the 
good of this people now plotting against me." 
Then addressing those whom he styled " the good," 
he declared: — 

"Ye are sad when ye ought to rejoice. Tribula- 
tions are nigh. There will be a war of excommuni- 
cations, of swords, of martyrdom. The days of 
trial are come. It is the will of God that I should 
be the first to meet them. There are those who 
say I am no prophet; but they do all they can to 
fulfill my prophecies. Again I tell you that Italy 
will be laid waste by barbarous nations, and when 
they make peace one with another, destruction upon 
destruction will befall perverse Italy. But do you, 
ye pious, offer up your prayers. God will help you. 



r I 8 SAVONAROLA. 

''And now, ye evil-minded," hereat a murmur of 
disapprobation arose from the audience; but as if 
he did not notice it, Savonarola cried : " O Lord, 
be not angry with them; forgive them; convert 
them; they know not what they do," Then, speak- 
ing directly to the disturbers, he continued: '*Ye 
wicked ones, ye think ye are in conflict with the 
vicar; ye are warring against God. Therefore I 
fight with you, not from any ill-will I bear toward 
you, but from the love I bear to the Lord. Why 
turn ye not to the Lord that there may be peace ? 
'Friar,' thou wilt say, 'thou oughtest not to be 
preaching, for the Seignory has forbidden thee ' " — a 
Seignory hostile to him was then in power. " That 
is not true. I ought to abstain from preaching 
neither through fear, nor at the command of man. 
I shall be silent only when I believe my sermons 
will do harm." 

At these words, "a tremendous crash was heard; 
the doors flew open ; the people fled as for their 
lives. It seemed as if the Duomo, shaken to its 
foundations, was falling in pieces. Every kind of 
noise was made. Drums were beaten. Benches 
were thrown. The confusion was frightful. Sev- 
eral of the Seignory sprang to the pulpit, hoping 
to capture the author of the tumult, but a blow 
in the face — an indignity never before offered one 
of that body — from one of the Piagnoni, defeated 
the attempt." 

Holding aloft the crucifix, Savonarola cried : 
"Trust in this. Fear nothing." His words were 
drowned in the tumult. Prostrating himself on his 
knees, he offered a silent prayer. Then, the uproar 
having quieted somewhat, he passed down the pul- 
pit stairs. The Piagnoni closed around him, raised 
their spears, crosses, and swords aloft, and con- 
ducted him to San Marco. 



THE WRATH OF THE POPE. I I9 

In the lovely convent grounds, to those who de- 
sired to listen to him, Savonarola concluded the 
discourse so unceremoniously interrupted at the 
cathedral. That Ascension-day sermon hastened 
his doom. The dark days crowded on rapidly. 
Savonarola cheered his friars by saying : *' Be not 
moved by persecutions. Rejoice rather. Not a 
drop of blood has yet been shed. The Lord will 
give faith, virtue, and courage for greater things." 

The Seignory now issued a proclamation restrict- 
ing all friars from preaching, and immediately took 
steps to secure the banishment of Savonarola. But 
the Piagnoni intimated to that body that such a 
measure would not be tolerated. Whereupon the 
Seignory rested in the certainty that the papal ex- 
communication would soon set matters aright. 
Meantime Alexander understood the entire situa- 
tion, and saw that the time was ripe for cutting off 
" this tool of the devil, this curse of the Florentine 
people." 

Convinced that the storm would soon break upon 
him, Savonarola addressed a letter to the Pope, la- 
menting that the Holy Father had never heard him 
preach, but on the contrary had lent a willing ear 
to the false accusations of his enemies. He was 
willing to submit to the church, for he had ''never 
taught any doctrine contrary to that of the Fathers, 
as his 'Triumph of the Cross ' would certify to the 
whole world." 

This letter was penned eighteen days after the 
Ascension-day sermon. Little did he imagine that 
the terrible edict of excommunication was at that 
hour on its way to Florence. The paper consumed 
a whole month in its journey, and met with rather 
inhospitable treatment. Messenger after messenger 
failed to deliver the bull, believing it unsafe to med- 
die with it. And numerous clergy refused to pub- 



I 20 SAVONAROLA. 

lish it, ''because it had not been intrusted to an 
apostolic commissioner." 

The bull alluded, in the usual mysterious way, 
to one Girolamo Savonarola, vicar of San Marco. 
Said His Holiness: '*We have with great benignity 
accepted his excuses, but now command those to 
whom this bull is sent, to declare — on all festival 
occasions, in the presence of the people — this same 
Fra Savonarola to be excommunicated, and that he 
be so held by everyone, inasmuch as he has not 
obeyed our apostolic injunction. And everyone is 
prohibited, under like penalty, from rendering him 
any assistance; from having any communication 
with him; or expressing any praise of him, inas- 
much as he is excommunicated and suspected of 
heresy." 

The dreaded edict was proclaimed in Florence, 
June 22, 1497, to a large assembly of clergy, minor 
friars, monks in white, black, and gray. The cere- 
mony was made as impressive as possible. The 
bells were solemnly tolled ; tapers were lighted ; the 
edict was gravely read. Then the lights were ex- 
tinguished ; there were a few moments of breathless 
stillness ; there was a slow, cat-like tread of " monk- 
ish feet;" the church was left in silence and half light. 

We must not forget that this awful document, 
read amid hush and gloom, accused Savonarola 
only of suspected Jieresy. Was this Alexander's ut- 
most charge against the man ? Does not this 
prove that political not religious reasons prompted 
its fulmination? Was there not at Rome all this 
time a Pietro de Medici, eagerly waiting to be re- 
instated at Florence? And so long as Savonarola's 
voice could be raised against him, this could not 
'be. 

Savonarola obeyed the mandate, so far as to re- 
frain from preaching. But he wrote a letter to "all 



THE WRATH OF THE POPE. 121 

Christians and the beloved of God, against surrep- 
titious excommunication," in which he held that 
*'a Christian will not be guilty of sin, when, in or- 
der to avoid an unjust excommunication, he avails 
himself of the secular power. It is very right to be 
humble and courteous to the Pope ; but when the 
end is not gained by such humility, tlien a coiLva- 
geous liberty must be resorted to!' These words he 
quoted from Gerson. 

The boldness of the man in declaring the Pope's 
bull unjust, increased by tenfold the anxiety of his 
friends, who were more resolute than ever in his 
support, while his enemies were more intent upon 
his utter removal. 

The powerful edict soon began to bear fruit. 
The Pope had silenced the only voice which had 
preached truth to the people. And in one short 
month the profligate days of Lorenzo de Medici 
revived. Moreover, in Florence the plague now 
prevailed, and was slaying its hundreds. The av- 
erage deaths, daily, in the city, were seventy. Now,, 
if ever, thought his friends, "the friar's voice is 
needed to cheer the sick and dying." 

Forbidden to visit as a minister of religion, yet 
in his own convent Savonarola relieved and com- 
forted to the utmost those intrusted to his care. 
He remained at his post, taking no thought for 
himself Yet he nobly took the precaution to send 
away the younger friars and novices, and with them 
his own brother, Marco Aurelio. Writing of this 
scourge, he said, " Some of the friars die as cheer- 
fully as if going to a festival." And again. "Some 
number the deaths, daily, at one hundred. One 
sees nothing but crucifixes and dead people. We 
ourselves, thanks be to God, are well. In these nu- 
merous deaths another of Savonarola's predictions 
was fulfilled. Florence must have thought of this« 




CHAPTER XVII. 

THE TRIAL OF THE FIVE CONSPIRATORS. 

•ARELY had the terrible plague abated, and 
the tide of affairs begun to move again, when 
Florence was plunged into a sea of tumult 
and excitement. When Pietro de Medici 
made a second futile attempt to re-enter Flor- 
ence, it was more than suspected that certain men 
of high position in the city were in league with 
him; but who they were was a mystery. But the 
secret was thus divulged. There had been banished 
to Rome, on account of his friendship for the Med- 
ici, one Lamberta della Antella. A letter from him 
promising that if the Seignory would grant him a 
safe-conduct, he would return to the city and reveal 
some important facts, was placed by its recipient 
before that body. 

The safe-conduct being delayed a little, the im- 
patient Lamberta passed the border-line of the re- 
public. He was instantly arrested, carried to Flor- 
ence, put to the torture, and forced to reveal the 
much he knew. His disclosure made, Florence was 
transfixed with amazement. Why? — On the list of 
conspirators brought to light, were the names of five 
of her noblest, most-trusted citizens ! Conspicuous 
among them was the revered Bernardo del Nero, a 
man of splendid gifts and lofty position. Letters 
secured, proved that while he held office as one of 
Florence's chief magistrates, he was aware of Pie- 
tro's schemes to return to the city, 
(122) 



THE TRIAL OF THE FIVE CONSPIRATORS. 1 23 

Being at once arrested, the situation of the five 
men was perilous in the extreme. The bringing 
them to trial was an undertaking of vast difficulty. 
Their high social position and their untarnished 
character made it quite impossible to beheve them 
to be traitors. 

In Florence there was a board of eight, whose 
duty it was to pass sentence upon prisoners of 
state. To evade the duty in this sad case, it referred 
the matter to the Seignory. That body declined 
the hateful task, but in view of the important in- 
terests at stake, allowed the eight the assistance of 
twelve other influential citizens. 

The twenty convicted the prisoners of high trea- 
son, whereupon the twelve retired, leaving the 
others to pass the sentence of death. Shrinking 
from the enmity sure to fall upon them, they wanted 
the Seignory to take the responsibility. Firmly 
that powerful body refused it. Somebody then 
suggested chat the case be referred to the Great 
Council. To this the counsel for the prisoners 
strongly demurred, on the plea that State offenders 
should be tried only by the Seignory. Still the 
latter refused, but consented that the case might be 
tried by a new body of two hundred chosen for the 
purpose. That was a step toward the end. 

Finally, the new board was filled. One of the 
two hundred was Francesco Valori, between v/hom 
and the honor of being " the first citizen of Flor- 
ence " there stood one man — Bernardo del nero. 
It does not appear that a single man of that assem- 
bly was chosen for his fitness for the trying duty. 
It was composed of several boards of magistracy, 
and the Seignory decided that each board should 
consider and vote upon the case separately. 

Sentence against the men was the immediate re- 



I 24 SAVONAROLA. 

suit. The counsel for the prisoners was in despair. 
It insisted that each member of the assembly should 
vote by himself, entreating for it with all their elo- 
quence. " It hoped that pity, at least for Bernardo 
del Nero, aged and venerable; pity for Nicoli Ro- 
dolfi, but a trifle his junior; pity for Pucci and Tor- 
naboni, both brilliant young orators, to whom Flor- 
ence always listened with rapturous applause, — it 
hoped that pity for such men, and pity even for 
Florence, in their loss, would prevail, and that not 
one man of the assembly would be found willing to 
stain his hands in blood so noble, nor be willing to 
be the first to record his vote for death." 

Francesco Valori realized the gravity of the 
situation, but — Bernardo del Nero once put out of 
the way, he would be the first man of Florence — 
the temptation was greater than he could bear. So, 
boldly approaching the table around which were 
grouped the Senate, he gave his vote for " death " 
in tones which rang through the whole assembly. 
Most of the two hundred quickly followed his. 
example, and the fate of the five men seemed sealed. 

But their counsel now remembered that a law of 
1495 made possible an appeal to the Great Council 
for every capital offense. This appeal the counsel 
made, but the populace, from the first hostile to the 
accused, cried: "Justice must be done. The re- 
public is in danger." Yielding to their clamor, the 
Seignory refused permission to appeal. At this 
juncture also came letters from Rome furnishing 
new proof of the prisoners' guilt. Every hope 
was now lost. "Death — without delay" — was 
unanimously ordained. 

The day being quite spent, the Seignory thought 
"to-morrow" would be early enough for the sorrow- 
ful deed. Not such was the opinion of Francesco 



THE TRIAL OF THE FIVE CONSPIRATORS. 125 

Valori. He would not wait until to-morrow to 
become the first citizen of Florence. Grasping the 
ballot-box, he dashed it upon the table, exclaiming : 
"Let justice be done! let justice be done! or there 
will be trouble here." A moment's silence — and he 
whose office it was passed the ballot-box to the 
eight. Five gave their votes for execution, three 
against it. Not to be thus baffled, Valori arose and 
soon won the dissenting three to his view, ''and one 
by one they did as he bade them." 

In the midst of this wild scene, the five prisoners, 
barefooted and bound with chains, were by their 
counsel brought into the assembly in the hope that 
their presence might awaken sympathy for the ill- 
fated noblemen. Was that the result ? The heart 
of Florence was stone. In all that assembly of 
magistracy and councils not one syllable of com- 
passion was heard. Yet many present had enjoyed 
the kindliest social relations with one or all of the 
manacled men. They were led back to their cells, 
and "their heads were struck off at midnight." 

For a time the Piagnoni — the party of the re- 
public — gained additional power by this act. Com- 
memorative medals were issued, bearing on one 
side the image of Savonarola, on the other that of 
Rome, over which was significantly suspended a 
hand and dagger. 

In that hour, which stirred Florence to her foun- 
dations, where was the one man whose voice would 
have been potent, it was believed, to save a't least the 
life of Bernardo del Nero ? He was in the convent 
of San Marco, " correcting the proof-sheets of his 
'Triumph of the Cross.'" Speaking of Bernardo, 
Savonarola said: "I did not advise his death. I 
should have been glad had he been sent into exile." 
And of Tornabuoni he remarked, "I recommended 
him, thotigh coldly, to the mercy of Valori." 



I 26 SAVONAROLA. 

Most singularly, as historians affirm, Savonarola 
himself secured the passage of that law of 1495, 
which gave to prisoners of state the right of appeal 
to the Great Council. Historians also state that 
his request would have secured that right to the 
prisoners, for his will was potent with Valori. This 
latter statement is very doubtful. Savonarola was 
then an excommunicated man, and at that very 
crisis efforts were making to have the ban recalled. 
Under these circumstances, it is extremely uncertain 
if his services would have been even tolerated. 
Yet it must ever be lamented that he did not make 
at least an attempt to save these men. He could 
have but failed. Clemency at this point might 
have added stability to the republic. Omission of 
it certainly hastened its downfall. 




CHAPTER XVIII. 

TROUBLES WITH THE POPE.— CARNIVAL OF 1498. 




ORE and more incurable grew the dispute 
between the Pope and Savonarola. Dur- 
ing the remaining six months of 1497, the 
Seignory chosen were of the people's party, and 
frequently begged their ambassador at Rome " to 
knock incessantly at the Vatican door, and never 
cease to entreat His Holiness to revoke the edict of 
excommunication." Such a step was the last in 
Alexander's thought ; and daily he contrived to 
secure the obnoxious friar more firmly in his grasp. 
Meanwhile Savonarola passed most of his time in 
his cell writing vigorous protests against his illegal 
excommunication, which, for this reason only, he did 
not consider himself obliged to obey. 

Looking back to that somber day with the 
resplendent example of Luther lying between our- 
selves and Savonarola, we can but say that, had he 
utterly thrown off the yoke of Rome and claimed 
the right to obey only the Holy Scriptures and his 
conscience, as did Luther twenty-five years later, 
he would have been consistent in rejecting the 
authority and edicts of the Pope. But steadily 
claiming to be a faithful son of the church, his dis- 
obedience, as his historian asserts, "appeared a 
most serious matter, and inconsistent with the 
course of a true Christian." 

Unable to understand — or to approve- — Savon- 

(127) 



128 SAVONAROLA. 

arola's course toward the executed Florentines, 
several of his disciples now left him. And worse 
still, a company of disorderly young men, enraged 
at the friar's contradictory course, associated them- 
selves together, with Adolpho Spini, Savonarola's 
confessed enemy, at their head, " to concert meas- 
ures for the removal of the excommunicated friar." 
Thus records Guicciardini, adding, " Everyone lived 
in fear of these violent, roystering companions." 

The bribes and fatherly paragraphs of the Pope 
having fai.ed to reduce the contumacious monk to 
obedience, Alexander now laid aside all disguises. 
On the 1 8th of October a bull was issued forbid- 
ding him to preach in San Marco, or elsewhere, be- 
cause he had declared himself to be a man sent 
from God, a claim which ought to be confirmed by 
miracle. 

The prohibition was expressed in terms so strin- 
gent that there seemed to be left to Savonarola no 
choice but to obey as gracefully as possible, or to 
commit the Pope's bull to the flames, as did the 
daring monk of Wittenburg. But the inexplicable 
Savonarola did neither. *'And from this time," 
says the historian, " Fra Girolamo began to go 
down in the world." 

Early in November, 1497, the Seignory once 
more brought their influence to bear upon the Pope 
to have the edict of excommunication removed. 
But he was inexorable. Furthermore, realizing the 
full effect of the step, His Holiness refused to con- 
sider any matter under debate between Florence 
and the Roman court, until the prior of San Marco 
were delivered into his hands. To this requirement 
the Seignory refused assent. 

On Christmas-day, after six months of silence, in 
bold defiance of the excommunication, Savonarola 



TROUBLES WITH THE POPE. 1 29 

performed mass three times in the convent, and ad- 
ministered the sacrament to his brethren and other 
persons. "After this he conducted a solemn pro- 
cession of monks and friars through the convent 
cloisters." 

On the 1st of February following, the Seignory 
gave him permission to resume his Lent sermons 
in the Duomo. And there, as if urged by an irre- 
sistible fate, he once more mounted the pulpit 
stairs, and preached a discourse more than ever de- 
nunciatory of the sins of the clergy, and of Alexan- 
der himself The church was filled to overflowing, 
regardless of the edict of the Archbishop of Flor- 
ence, forbidding all persons to attend the service, 
and admonishing the parish priests to watch, lest 
their flocks should stray away to this son of per- 
dition, and thus cut themselves off from the church, 
from confession, the sacrament, and burial in con- 
secrated ground. 

Entering at once upon the topics uppermost in 
his mind, — excommunication, the authority of the 
great pontiff, and freedom of conscience, — Savona- 
rola used language little expected from an obedient 
son of the church, and which startles us, even at 
this distance down the stream of time. Hear his 
astounding sentences, referring to the Pope : — 

"When the one appointed by God severs himself 
from God, he is a broken tool, and is no longer en- 
titled to our obedience ! Our perfection consists 
not in faith, nor in law, but in charity, and he alone 
who has this knows what is needful to ^salvation. 
Whoever, therefore, commands anything contrary 
to charity, which is the fullness of the law, let him 
be anathema! Were it an angel even who said it, 
were all the saints, and the Virgin Mary — which 
certainly is not possible — to say so, let them be 

9 



130 SAVONAROLA. 

anathematized ! And if any Pope has ever spoken 
in contradiction to what I am now saying, let him be 
excommunicated ! 

" Some among you are afraid that, although this 
edict is null in the sight of God, it may be valid in 
the eye of the church. For me it is siifficient that I 
am not bound by it, but by Christ. Shall I tell you 
how absolution is to be obtained ? Ah, it were bet- 
ter for me to be silent. Yet this much will I say : 
This is the way." Then, taking two keys, he struck 
them together to imitate the clinking of money, 
thereby implying that absolution could be pur- 
chased with money, in the church in that day. 
The Catholic Church never changes. 

Is it any wonder that Alexander grew restless 
with such doctrines thundered forth by one he had 
excommunicated. He dreaded what else might be 
said by this man, dead to fear, callous to favor. 
Shortly after this scene in the Duomo, Savonarola 
discoursed in San Marco on the duties and charac- 
ter of the priesthood, finishing with a few sentences 
never more applicable than to-day. 

" O my brethren ! when I think of the life led by 
priests, I cannot refrain from tears. I pray you 
weep over their vices, that the Lord may, for the 
sake of his church, bring the priests to repentance; 
for all must see that a great scourge is hanging 
over them. In Rome they make a mockery of 
Christ and of the saints; they are worse than the 
Turks and the Moors. They even make a traffic 
of the sacraments. Do you think that Jesus Christ 
will endure this? Woe, woe to Italy and to Rome! 
Come forth, come forth from the midst of her, ye 
priests. Let us see, my brethren, whether we can- 
not in some degree revive the word of God." 

Then, addressing the Divine One, he exclaimed: 



TROUBLES WITH THE POPE. I3I 

"O Father! we shall be put to death; we shall be 
sent to prison; we shall be persecuted and put to 
death. Be it so; let them do as they will; they 
cannot tear Christ from my heart; my desire is to 
die for my God." 

Savonarola preached also on Sexagesima Sun- 
day that year, 1498, and gave utterance to these 
ringing opinions on the doctrine of papal infalli- 
bility : ''I take it for granted that there is no man 
who is not liable to err. We have had many Popes 
who have gone astray. If it were true that the 
Pope can do no wrong, we need but follow his ex- 
ample to be saved. You will say, perhaps, that as 
a man the Pope can do wrong, but not in his capac- 
ity as Pope. I reply, The Pope may erY in his ec- 
clesiastical censures and judgments. How many 
have been the laws made by one Pope and annulled 
by another! How many opinions held by one 
have been repudiated by another! " 

The carnival of 1498 was a very different affair 
from its predecessor. There was a vast destruction 
of ''vanities" by fire, on the plaza, it is true. But 
the Compagnacci, and others equally tender of 
heavenly things, handled the "angels," sent around 
to collect the articles, with very little mercy. On 
the top of the very miscellaneous pile was placed a 
gigantic figure of Lucifer, encircled by representa- 
tions of the seven mortal sins — as taught by the 
Catholic Church. As the match touched the great 
heap, the crowd gathered around and profanely 
sang the Te Deum, while the smoke and flames 
and bits of burning property rose high in the air. 

As in the previous year, the alms collected were 
carried to the charitable institutions for which they 
were intended. Then a procession of monks, friars, 
and citizens marched to San Marco, planted a cru- 



132 SAVONAROLA. 

cifix, and around the should-be-sacred symbol 
danced in a delirium of excitement, chanting psalms 
and hymns. With such scenes ended the carnival 
of 1498, in elegant and cultured Florence, in cruel 
and heathenish Florence; Florence, wherein at that 
hour the tide of the "new learning" was at its 
flood. Long were the consequences of those deeds 
remembered by both the friends and foes of Sa- 
vonarola. 

Indeed, his late sermons, and the scenes which 
took place at that carnival, doubled the fury of his 
enemies. Rome was crazed with anger, as reports 
of his Lent sermons, and of these carnival festivities, 
reached her ears. And more furious than ever was 
Savonarola' against Rome. Immediately the Pope 
sent out an edict, declaring he would make " that 
worm of a preaching friar feel the full weight of his 
wrath." Notwithstanding, every one of these ser- 
mons were printed, and greedily read by the people 
in Florence, in all Italy, beyond the Alps. 

Strozzi wrote from Rome: ''They begin to hear 
something of the new preaching in this city, and I 
doubt not we shall come to blows." And Bonsi, 
the Florentine ambassador at Rome, sent this Avord 
to Savonarola: " I am beset by a multitude of car- 
dinals and prelates, all of whom blame the Seignory, 
and declare that the Pope's rage is terrific. You 
have many enemies here who are blowing the fire." 

Savonarola well knew who was chief among the 
fire-fanners at Rome. The vindictive Gennezzano 
had ever promised to make his rival in oratory feel 
the weight of his hand. So important now did the 
accusing priest's charges against Savonarola appear 
to Alexander, that he requested him to present 
them from the pulpit. With most unseemly read- 
iness he consented. But so personal and unworthy 



TROUBLES WITH THE POPE. 1 33 

was his address that his hearers turned away in 
disgust. And the many prelates who looked for 
information of importance, shook their heads in 
displeasure. 

Into the Pope's hands at this crisis fell one 
of Savonarola's recent sermons on the Exodus. 
Forthwith there went out of Rome a command to 
the Seignory, closing in these suggestive terms : "If 
you refuse obedience to this order, then, in order 
that the dignity and authority of the Holy See may 
be maintained, we shall be forced to pass an inter- 
dict upon your city, and to have recourse to other 
measures still more effective." Thus threatened 
the great ** Head of the Church." Fearful had the 
storm become, but Savonarola bent not before it, 
and went on preaching in San Marco. 

There had been in office, now, three successive 
Seignories that were favorable to the prior. But 
early in March a new board was elected, with but 
three of its nine members friendly to him. En- 
couraged by this change, Alexander repeated his 
demand to have the monk sent to Rome. To his 
astonishment, the Seignory refused, not from at- 
tachment to the friar, nor his teachings, but because 
he was a Florentine citizen. To suffer him to be 
tried by any foreign authority, would be a stain 
upon the independence of the commonwealth. 

This attitude of resistance was not assumed by 
the Seignory single-handed. Too much it dreaded 
the odium inseparable from the position ; so, to 
support the weak body, an assembly of magistrates 
was convened. Several of the latter had been much 
tried with Savonarola's obstinacy, and, moreover, 
possessed a fervent zeal "for the honor of God," or 
for — what was the same thing to them — " obedience 
to the Pope." But these conscientious men were 



1 34 SAVONAROLA. 

happily in the minority. To the members gener- 
ally, the honor of the commonwealth was quite as 
precious as was obedience to Alexander. So, with 
surprising shrewdness, it was suggested that if Sa- 
vonarola's preaching were restricted to San Marco, 
"God and the commonwealth would be properly 
honored," and the Pope's dignity duly respected. 

The delicate matter thus adjusted, Savonarola 
preached regularly at the convent. But what said 
the Pope? Brief followed brief, expressing his dis- 
satisfaction. He marveled '^ how the Seignory could 
have so far forgotten the respect due to both him 
and themselves as to aid and abet the contemptible 
reptile." Every letter contained an order for the 
monk to appear at Rome to answer charges, and 
purge himself of his contumacy. " The mercy 
of the Mother Church would be vouchsafed should 
he recant ; but if not, the Holy Father would resort 
to extreme measures against him. And, further, 
were he not obeyed, he would confiscate all prop- 
erty in Rome belonging to Florentine citizens, and 
also forbid his subjects to have any dealings with 
the commonwealth ; and, further still, he would 
impose the same restrictions on other nations, on 
pain of interdict!" 

Did the Seignory send the friar to Rome? They 
simply forbade his preaching in San Marco. Where- 
upon the baffled Pope wrote that body a letter ex- 
pressing his "joyful contentment," wisely conclud- 
ing, no doubt, that the stubborn Florentines would 
concede no more. The Seignory was careful to re- 
late to him, however, the wonderful spiritual effects 
of Savonarola's sermons. 

Before the order of the magistrates imposing 
total silence reached Savonarola, he preached a 
most tender sermon, exclusively to the women of 



TROUBLES WITH THE POPE. 1 35 

his charge, as had been his custom once a week for 
some time. Sorrowful in tone, its effect was very 
great. Many of the noblest women of Florence 
were in the audience. At one stage, he exclaimed : 
*'0 Lord, we ask not tranquility from thee; not 
that tribulation shall cease, but we do ask for the 
Spirit ; we ask for thy love. Grant unto us gratitude 
and grace to overcome adversity. We would that 
thy love should bless the earth." 

The anticipated restriction reached him that 
evening. To the bearer Savonarola said, "You 
come, I presume, from your masters." '' From 
their Lordships, the Seignory, certainly," he re- 
plied. The friar rejoined, *' I also must consult 
fny Lord. To-morrow you shall receive my 
answer." 

The '*to-morrow," March i8, 1498, heard his 
last sermon. He informed his audience of the pro- 
hibition he had received, and expressed his purpose 
to obey it. He said : " These are evil tidings for 
Florence. Misfortunes are about to fall on her. 
You fear the papal interdict, but the Lord will 
send an interdict by which the wicked shall lose 
both goods and life. . . . When the whole 
ecclesiastical power is corrupt, you must turn to 
Christ, who is the First Cause, and say, 'Thou art 
my Confessor, Bishop, and Pope.' " 

After this, Savonarola gave two or three ad- 
dresses, but they could hardly be termed sermons. 
For eight consecutive years, now, as he himself 
states — and as he predicted at his coming — he had 
preached in giddy 'Florence, with but several short 
absences. And during that period he was the one 
distinguished preacher of the age. During the Ad- 
vent and Lent seasons of all those years he had 
not failed to preach daily. During the intervals he 
preached on all festival days. 



1 36 SAVONAROLA. 

Savonarola lived in one of the most corrupt eras of 
all human history ; he preached when the professed 
church of God was sunk in a night of iniquity. 
With all his strength he preached repentance of 
sin, and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ as a Saviour 
from sin, and as the only ground of hope for fallen 
man. He preached righteousness with almost su- 
perhuman energy. He preached charity, the high- 
est quality in the Christian religion. Yet his life 
appears to have been but a partial success, except 
in its distant results. What was the matter ? 

A very few sentences will sum up the causes of 
the great man's failure, if we may call it a failure. 
First, he clung with amazing tenacity to the corrupt 
church which he so mercilessly denounced, his ex- 
ample and preaching thus losing half their power. 
He seemed not to perceive that the teachings of 
Rome are antagonistic to the gospel of Christ; thus 
were his views of that gospel defective. Second, 
when at the zenith of his influence for good, he un- 
wisely mingled service to the republic with service 
to God. 

Had Savonarola but broken utterly away from 
the corrupt church, had he but left the republic to 
build its own fabric, had he but labored to make 
Florence free through the truth only, his life might 
have been crowned, not only with the martyrdom 
he craved, but with a nobler success. But the light 
was midnight in his day. He stood alone, too. 
The wonder with regard to him is the influence he 
exerts, to-day, over the race. But the end draws 
near. 




CHAPTER XIX. 

THE ORDEAL BY FIRE. 

Savonarola's sky grew darker, many of his 
followers deserted him. Some fled from the 
city. Others concealed themselves until 
the storm, about to break, had passed. Just 
at this juncture of affairs, there occurred within 
Florence itself an event which involved Savona- 
rola in rank fanaticism, and hastened his end. 
The Franciscan order of friars, long jealous of the 
great Dominican, and instigated by the Arrabbiati, 
determined his ruin. Francesco de Puglia — a Fran- 
ciscan — had himself long condemned Savonarola's 
teachings from the pulpit. Of this no notice was 
taken. Being called a heretic, a schismatic, a pre- 
tended prophet, had no effect upon the prior. So 
Francesco, at no loss for expedients, challenged 
Savonarola to prove his doctrines by the ordeal by 
fire — passing between lines of burning fagots. 

Savonarola treated the proposal with deserved 
contempt. But, unfortunately, his too zealous 
friend and disciple, Fra Domenico, present once 
when the challenge was given, eagerly accepted it. 
Unhappily, however, Savonarola had announced that 
on the first day of the carnival he would go forth 
with any one of his adversaries, sacrament in hand, 
and solemnly call upon God to send down fire from 
heaven to consume whichever one was in error. 
The day arrived. Savonarola left San Marco, 
and ascended the pulpit of the cathedral, filled with 
thousands anxious to witness the miracle. 

(137) 



138 SAVONAROLA. 

First came the sermon, without a particle of his 
old fiery eloquence. Then, leaning over the pulpit, 
he said : '' Citizens of Florence, if in the name of 
God I have said to you anything which was not 
true ; if the apostolic edict is valid ; if I have de- 
ceived anyone, pray God that he w411 send down 
fire and consume me, in the presence of the people. 
And / pray God, Three in One, whose body I hold 
in this blessed sacrament, to send death to me in 
this place, if I have not preached the truth." 

For a half hour the audience prayed and waited 
for fire from heaven. It came not. Savonarola 
and his brethren returned to the convent chanting 
a Te Deum. Shortly after that, Savonarola fool- 
ishly challenged the Franciscans to accompany him 
to a neighboring cemetery and there to raise the dead. 
The proposal was declined, but it probably led the 
Franciscans again to demand the ordeal by fire. 
Again the prior firmly opposed the step. 

But Domenico, having accepted the challenge, 
was the last man to repent. On the other hand, 
when Francesco saw that Domenico really held 
himself ready to brave the fire, he was the more 
anxious to escape. He attempted this, by declar- 
ing he would enter the fire only with Savonarola. 
*' Surely," thought the Franciscan, **Fra Girolamo 
has too much sense to enter the burning pile; I need 
not now fear; and as for Domenico, he is but 
an ardent fanatic, ready to sacrifice life in Savon- 
arola's cause." Savonarola resolutely declined. 
Then Francesco, impelled by the Compagnacci — 
the band of dissolute young men already mentioned 
— who had taken up the matter, induced a brother 
monk, Guiliamo Rondinelli, to take his place in the 
ordeal, with Fra Domenico. Rondinelli assented, 
saying " he should be burned, but he ventured his 
life for the salvation of souls." 



THE ORDEAL BY FIRE. 1 39 

Day after day was fixed upon for the ordeal, and 
then set aside. The Pope was eager for it. For 
their own ends the Seignory desired it. The Piag- 
noni loudly demanded it, having not a doubt but 
that Savonarola would lead the way, followed by 
the loyal Domenico, and of course they would come 
forth with not even the smell of fire on their gar- 
ments. 

Finally the disappointed people called loudly for 
the spectacle. The trial was set for the 7th of April. 
That morning, the plaza was early occupied by 
three bodies of armed men — " five hundred soldiers 
in the pay of the Seignory ; five hundred rufifians 
under Dolpho Spini, leader of the Compagnacci ; and 
three hundred Piagnoni, led by Marucceo Salviati." 

While these movements were taking place on the 
plaza, Savonarola performed mass at the convent, 
and addressed the people assembled. Then the 
mace-bearers of the Seignory arrived, saying all was 
ready. Four hundred Dominicans then marched 
forth, led by Fra Domenico. *' He wore a bright- 
colored cope, and in his hand carried a long cross. 
Behind him walked Savonarola, robed in white, 
bearing the host in a crystal vase." All chanted, 
" Let God arise ; let his enemies be scattered." At 
noon the Dominicans reached the plaza. Since be- 
fore dawn every inch of space had been occupied. 

In full view of the vast assembly of armed men 
and citizens rose the huge pile of material prepared 
for this outrage upon common sense and humanity. 
First, there was a platform about eighty feet long 
by ten feet wide, paved with brick and elevated 
about four feet from the ground. On this platform 
were heaped masses of fagots, saturated with oil. 
Between these heaps was left a space about two feet 
wide the entire length of the platform. Here the 



140 SAVONAROLA. 

champions of faith were to walk, amid the leaping 
flames. They were to enter at the end nearest the 
palace. As soon as they had entered, that end was 
to be immediately closed by lighted fagots so that 
neither could turn back. This precaution was the 
suggestion — of Savonarola! But why should he 
think the men might retreat ? Did he not expect 
God to protect them from the fire ? 

Now everything seems to be ready. The weary 
crowd is impatient. Fra Domenico is praying be- 
fore the altar upon which Savonarola laid the host. 
The low and solemn chanting of the Dominicans 
comforts him. But where are Francesco de Puglia 
and Rondinelli ? — Holding a secret conference with 
the Seignory in the palace. Now Domenico rises 
from prayer, his face calm in the conviction that 
God will sustain him. He begs earnestly that there 
be no more delay. Then Savonarola steps forward 
and demands that the Franciscan come forth. 
There is no reply, no movement. Now members 
of that order near began to object to Domenico's 
dress, first one article then another, until a com- 
plete change had been effected, on the plea that 
'* Savonarola might have cast some spell upon them 
to prevent their burning." Finally, they forbade 
Domenico to stand near the prior. So Domenico 
placed himself among the objectors themselves. 

Now there is a slight agitation of the crowd near 
the palace entrance. All is expectation for a mo- 
ment. Then the old quiet is resumed. No Rondi- 
nelli appears. On all sides fierce threats now rend 
the air. The Franciscan champion has asked an- 
other conference with the Seignory. This known, 
the Arrabbiati improve the opportunity, spring from 
their ranks, and try to seize Savonarola. Instantly, 
Salviati, at the head of the three hundred Piagnoni 



THE ORDEAL BY FIRE. I4I 

drawn up in the front of the Dominicans, draws 
a line on the ground with his sword, exclaiming : 
*' The man who crosses that line, shall try the metal 
of Muruccio Salviati's arms." Back drew the Ar- 
rabbiati. The populace resumed its waiting. Sa- 
onarola anxiously inquired the cause of the delay. 

A heavy thunder-shower, which had gathered 
suddenly, now drenched the crowd, giving hope to 
the nobler Florentines that a stop might thus be 
put to the scandalous proceedings. But the sun 
soon reappeared, warm and bright as before. Still 
no Rondinelli. His friends, to excuse his absence, 
now demanded that Domenico should lay aside the 
crucifix. At once he assented, saying he would 
hold the host in his hand. This provoked some 
discussion, and at that moment the Seignory an- 
nounced that ** the ordeal by fire would not proceed." 

Many of the multitude had not tasted food since 
the dawn, and their fury now became frightful. 
Every party and faction was extremely disappointed, 
even enraged, over being ''cheated of the miracle." 

Upon Savonarola alone fell the furious storm of 
accusations. Even the Piagnoni admitted that he 
had proved himself an unreliable leader. When 
others refused, said they, he ought resolutely to 
have walked into the fire, and thus proved his di- 
vine mission. The Seignory, who had put a stop 
to the proceedings, declared the disappointment 
was due to the cowardice of Savonarola, and pro- 
claimed him a deceiver of the people. And the 
audacious Franciscans claimed the victory! 

Defended by a faithful few, Savonarola returned 
to San Marco, amid a raging crowd hurling upon 
him every contemptuous epithet. When once the 
walls of his cell closed around him that night, what 
mu.st have been his thoughts ! 




CHAPTER XX. 

THE FATAL PALM SUNDAY. 

ALM SUNDAY was the day after the for- 
bidden ordeal. Disregarding the command 
of the Seignory not to preach even in San 
Marco, Savonarola addressed a company 
whose faith in him was unswerving. The sermon 
ended, in tones of deepest sadness he pronounced the 
benediction, and slowly descended the pulpit steps, 
nevermore to enter that chapel. This act of dis- 
obedience indicates that he felt his time was short, 
and he would improve it to the utmost. Alluding 
to this act, Nardi, the historian, says, "This man 
was ever true to himself; he was never intimidated 
by any trouble or danger." 

After vespers at the convent, a company of Piag- 
noni proceeded to the Duomo, where Fra Mariano, 
the Dominican, who also had offered to pass through 
the fire, was appointed to preach. The church was 
packed. The Compagnacci crowded the nave. At 
the doors were stationed the Arrabbiati, to assure 
those entering that no sermon would be given. 
This the Piagnoni firmly denied. The Arrabbiati 
replied with a shower of stones. Instantly swords 
were drawn, and forthwith a mob was instituted. 
Those of the audience who had come unarmed, 
rushed out for their weapons. From the plaza was 
heard the cry, "The fire to San Marco !" 

Barely were the words uttered, when church and 
convent were besieged by the infuriated throng. A 
few women were at prayers in the chapel They now 
(142) 



THE FATAL PALM SUNDAY. 1 43 

fled, shrieking, driven by a discharge of stones. Sev- 
eral faithful friends of Savonarola remained in the 
church, and barred its doors, and also those of the 
convent, determining to defend the sacred ground. 
They had clearly foreseen this storm, and, without 
Savonarola's knowledge, had brought into the con- 
vent pikes, muskets, and other fire-arms. These 
were distributed among the lay brethren, and a few 
firairs, also armed, joined the ranks. 

Savonarola was much displeased, and the saintly 
Domenico prayed them not to stain their hands 
with blood, so opposed both to the gospel and 
Savonarola's teachings. And truly the sight of a 
Dominican accoutered with helmet and halberd 
was unutterably offensive to the prior. Putting on 
his cope and taking the crucifix, he entreated his 
brethren to let him surrender,, and thus prevent 
shedding of blood. *' Let me go, for I know this 
tempest has arisen on my account," he prayed. 
But they gathered about him, saying, *Tfyou go, you 
will be torn in pieces, and then what shall we do ? " 

Their words prevailed. Turning, Savonarola said, 
" Follow me," and together they passed through 
the cloisters singing a joyful hymn. It was now 
about four in the afternoon. A vast multitude filled 
the plaza. Taking position in front of the people, 
the mace-bearers of the Seignory made an announce- 
ment from that body. Of course it was a command 
to the rioters to disperse! Far from it. This it 
was : "All zvitJiin the convent d^x^ commanded to lay 
down arms. All laymen are to depart from it, 
Savonarola is to quit Florentine territory within 
twelve hours!" A tumultuous cry from the mob 
was the only answer. 

As night closed in, the friars, faint and weary, ate 
a few figs to refresh themselves. The shots now 
became more frequent, the cries more fearful. All 



144 SAVONAROLA. 

through the night, into the morning, the invaders 
had their will. They scaled the convent walls, 
broke in its windows, set fire to its doors, and 
through the flames effected an entrance. Immedi- 
ately the entire structure was in possession of the 
mob. Even the infirmary, and the cells where were 
men praying, were invaded. Springing to their feet, 
the terrified monks fought until their assailants 
turned away. The next moment, meeting another 
band of plunderers, the friars entered the choir. 
Then began the great bell of the convent to toll, 
amid the din of arms and cries of foes. 

During those long hours, on his knees in the 
choir, Savonarola entreated the Lord for himself, 
his brethren, the church, and the convent. At one 
time, upon the steps of the high altar, close beside 
him, was laid a young man mortally wounded. Fra 
Domenico administered to him the Lord's Supper 
just before he died in his arms. Soon thick smoke 
forced them to break the windows for air. 

Then Savonarola rose from his knees, and bade 
those present to follow him to the library. Taking 
position in the center of its great hall, Savonarola 
spoke his last words to his brethren: — 

** My sons, before God and in the presence of 
the holy sacrament, our enemies being already in 
possession of the convent, I confirm to you my 
teaching. All that I have said to you I have re- 
ceived from God. He is my witness in heaven that 
I have spoken the truth. I did not know that all 
Florence would thus turn against me. But God's 
will be done. Have faith, patience, and prayer. Let 
these be your arms. I leave you with sorrow and 
anguish, to go into the hands of the enemy. I 
know not if they will take my life. Be of good 
courage." 

Scarcely had he spoken when a body of guards 



THE FATAL PALM SUNDAY. 145 

arrived from the Seignory, ordering the convent to 
be reduced by artillery unless Fra Girolamo Sa- 
vonarola, Fra Domenico, and Fra Salvestro were 
immediately delivered into the hands of the Seign- 
ory. Request was sent also for the presence of 
Francesco Valori, who, with other leading Piagnoni, 
was at the convent devising means for the safety of 
Savonarola. Valori obeyed reluctantly, but with 
the hope, it is said, of rallying all the Piagnoni to 
the rescue. 

But on the way to the palazzo, he was recognized 
by relatives of Ridolfi and Tornabuoni , the two young 
Florentine conspirators, whose deaths he had pro- 
cured the previous August. Instantly he was cut 
down near his own palace. Hearing the noise in 
the street, his wife ran to a window to learn the 
cause, and was killed without a word of warning. 
Their home was then sacked by the mob. 

Further resistance seeming futile, Savonarola con- 
fessed to Domenico, and from his hands received 
the sacrament, and Salvestro not being found, Sa- 
vonarola and the faithful Domenico, though urged 
to escape at the rear of the convent, as Valori had 
done, scorned the entreaty, and left the convent, 
surrounded by the murderous mob. As he turned 
to go, Savonarola, embracing each friar, said to 
them: '* My brethren, remember never to doubt. 
The work of the Lord is ever progressive. My 
death will serve but to hasten it." Betrayed by the 
monk Maletesta, who only two days before had 
offered to accompany Domenico through the fire, 
Salvestro was soon dragged forth, and the three 
prisoners, pressed forward by the ferocious crowd, 
soon gained the palazzo publico, with their faces 
blackened by smoke from torches thrust under 
their hoods, while the bearers insultingly cried, 
" This is the new light." 
10 



146 SAVONAROLA. 

The prisoners were hurried into the presence of 
the chief magistrate, who inquired if they still main- 
tained that the doctrines they had preached wxre 
from God. Replying in the affirmative, they were 
hurried to their cells. Savonarola's prison was the 
chamber in the tower of the palazzo, of which 
Cosmo de Medici had once been the occupant. 

Without delay the various European courts were 
notified of Savonarola's arrest. The Florentine 
ambassador at Rome was charged to ask absolution 
of Alexander for the sin of the Seignory in so long 
permitting Savonarola to preach. Alexander's re- 
sponse abounded in commendation of these ** true 
sons of the church ; " freely granted them absolu- 
tion; promised them every blessing, present or 
future; commanded them to hasten the trial of 
Savonarola for his state offenses, and then to speed 
him to Rome to answer for his disobedience to the 
Holy Father. 

We close this chapter by adding that on the 7th 
of April, the day set for the ordeal by fire, Charles 
VIII., of France, died, miserably, at Amboise. Sud- 
denly stricken with apoplexy, he was borne into a 
hut near by, where he expired upon a bed of mere 
straw. The king's death was a heavy blow to the 
political structure Savonarola had reared. He was 
its last and most powerful support. Often had the 
friar prophesied that, should Charles not fulfill his 
duty in chastising Italy and reforming the church, 
God would forsake him and he would die wretchedly. 
The exact fulfillment of these predictions did not 
seem to impress the Seignory with the conviction 
that the mission of the man they were about to put 
to death might, after all, be from God. 




CHAPTER XXI 

TRIAL OF SAVONAROLA. 

.0 eager was the Seignory to engage in the trial 
of Savonarola and his brethren that, on the 
evening after the riot, that board held a 
meeting for their examination. That day 
was Monday in Easter week, a week which Savona- 
rola had been accustomed to consecrate with spe- 
cial services in the Duomo. But now the multitude, 
which had listened, enraptured, to his fervid elo- 
quence, shouted for his death. Besides Domenico 
and Salvestro, seventeen others of his tried friends 
were in the hands of his determined enemies. 

Having searched San Marco, and particularly 
Savonarola's cell, for evidence against him, the Com- 
pagnacci collected all the weapons they could find 
at the convent, placed them, stained with blood, 
upon a vehicle, and paraded them through the 
streets, crying, " See the miracles of the friar, the 
tokens of his love for Florence!" The sight was 
shocking, and had the desired effect, that of paving 
the way for the merciless deeds to come. 

Instead of the regular Council of Eight, a special 
commission of seventeen, all open enemies of Sa- 
vonarola, was appointed to conduct the trial, with 
authority to employ torture or other means deemed 
necessary to gain their end. Of this cruel court, 
Dolfo Spini, leader of the unprincipled Compag- 
nacci, sat as judge. Openly and secretly, by his 
own hand and by that of an assassin, had this man 

(147) 



148 SAVONAROLA. 

sought to kill Savonarola. So shocked was one of 
the Seignory at all this pretense at justice, in which 
he was expected to act a part, that he withdrew 
from the board, exclaiming, ** God forbid that my 
family should stain its hands with the blood of 
this just man! " 

The commission was formally made up May 14. 
But in such haste were his foes to begin their work 
that Savonarola was examined by torture on the 
evening of the 9th, and for ten days following. 
Questioned as to his doctrine, he replied, " You 
tempt the Lord." And when requested to give his 
opinions in writing, his statements were so direct, so 
clear, so free from views which could be urged 
against him, that the document was instantly torn 
in pieces. This was the only formulation of his 
faith made during the trial, and is forever lost. 

At length, tortured beyond endurance, in an agony 
of. pain, weakened by months of sleeplessness and 
of intense mental strain, he admitted, again and 
again, all they wished. But the moment torture 
was removed, he recalled what he had said in the 
frenzy of suffering. 

On one occasion, conscious of his mental weak- 
ness, he cried out, ''Take, O Lord! take, oh, take 
my life away ! " But instead of death came delir- 
ium. Thus succeeded ten days of torture and mental 
overthrow. Yet his "examiners" affirmed that his 
answers, given when in that condition, were ren- 
dered "spontaneously, in an uninjured state of the 
body!" After one of these examinations, as they 
were about to send him to his cell, he fell upon his 
knees and prayed for his tormentors. 

At no time of his life had Savonarola been able 
to explain to others the subject of his visions. It 
was impossible that now, with his body in agony from 



TRIAL OF SAVONAROLA. I49 

torture, he could render a clear opinion in regard 
to them. In such moments he felt his weakness, 
and at one time exclaimed, " O Lord! thou hast 
taken from me the spirit of prophecy." At another, 
firmly adhering to all he had uttered respecting 
his visions, he used these remarkable words: — 

" Leave this subject alone; for if it be from God, 
you will have a clear sign of it ; but if it be of man, 
it will fall to the ground. But wJictJicr I am a 
propJict or not, is not an affair of the State; and no 
0716 has a right to condemn the thoughts of others.'' 

Savonarola's answers in reference to political 
matters were clear and unequivocal. Again and 
again he denied having used the confessional to ob- 
tain a knowledge of state secrets. " ]\Iy sole object 
has ever been to favor free government in general, 
and such laws as would improve it," he once said. 

Torture daily repeated, torture so severe as to 
make even the one who applied it stand aghast at 
its effects, failed to elicit anything which could 
legally condemn Sa\'onarola, and the case now 
seemed desperate. The people were impatient for 
his conviction. The Pope wondered at the pro- 
longed trial. What should the Seignory do ? 
This they did. After a long day of unsuccessful 
torture and questioning, one of the examiners met 
upon the street a notary of infamous character, 
named Seccone, and bewailed the fact that no de- 
gree of painful torture had drawn from Savonarola 
a particle of legal evidence against him. 

''Then," answered the notar}-, "where none ex- 
ists we must invent one. I will undertake to make 
out a process that will convict him," and offered to 
do the despicable work "for four hundred ducats." 
The proposition was accepted. He was concealed 
in the room for torture, and there from the mass of 



150 SAVONAROLA. 

incoherent utterances of the agonized victim, Sec- 
cone drew up an acute and strong document, which, 
though by no means satisfactory to the Seignory, 
was accepted, and, with numerous revisions, was 
pubHshed by it. Still, not even the shrewdness of 
the unprincipled Seccone procured sentence of 
death against the prisoner. So the Seignory turned 
the lawyer off with but thirty ducats. 

This document, circulated in Florence, was read 
with astonishment. Friend nor foe of Savonarola 
believed it to be genuine. **The first copy had 
barely been sold when the Seignory suppressed the 
entire edition." It was believed this step would 
relieve the board of the odium which must inevita- 
bly attach to the party, whether Pope or Seignory, 
which secured the conviction of the prisoner. Of 
this act of suppression, the historian, Burlamacchi, 
remarks : " God permitted the document to be di- 
vulged; for Seccone had sent it to a friend, who 
promised not to show it to anyone, but he deceived 
him, printed it, and so made it public." 

Once more Savonarola was subjected to "exam- 
ination," short and frightfully severe. Once more 
tormentors made his words mean just what they 
willed. The law required the report of the trial to 
be read in the hall of the Great Council, before the 
public, in the presence of the accused. But there 
Savonarola would instantly discover its falsehoods, 
and that would not do. So it was read in his ab- 
sence, by the secretary of the Council of Eight, who 
audaciously assured the throng that '* Savonarola 
declined to be present lest he should be stoned!" 
Not a soul present believed the statement. 

From the 19th of April to the 19th of May, Sa- 
vonarola liv^ed quietly in his prison, free from ex- 
amination by torture. On the latter date, since the 
Seignory had been unable to find a legal verdict of 



TRIAL OF SAVONAROLA. I5I 

death against him, and since the matter of his con- 
demnation had been referred to the Pope, the two 
papal commissioners, the bishops Romohno and 
Turriano, arrived in Florence, with orders from the 
Pope to secure the friar's death, "though he were a 
second John the Baptist." 

In his cell, during that month of repose, his frail 
and broken body having recovered a little, Savon- 
arola found pure solace in writing out his medita- 
tions upon the thirty-first and fifty-first psalms. 
Hear these touching lines from his reflectious upon 
the latter: " Now let the world oppress me as it 
will. Let mine enemies rise up against me. As 
one whose hope is in the Lord, I fear them not. It 
may be, O Lord, that thou wilt not grant that I 
may be delivered from temporal anguish, for such 
measure of grace might not help the soul. Virtue 
alone inspires it with courage in days of tribulation. 
For a time, then, I shall be overcome by men. 
They will have power against me. But thou wilt 
not suffer that I shall be forever cast down. 

" I shall erelong be freed from tribulation. And 
by what merits ? Truly not by mine own, but by 
thine, O Lord. I do not rely upon mine own jus- 
tification, but on thy mercy. Justification comes 
from grace alone; no one will be justified before 
God solely by having fulfilled the works of the law. 
I shall not put my trust in man, but in the Lord 
alone. For the death of saints is precious in the 
eyes of the Lord. Should the whole army of mine 
enemies be arrayed against me, my heart will not 
quake. Thou art my refuge, and wilt lead me to 
my latter end." 

*' Savonarola was then deprived of pen and ink, 
and could write no more." 




CHAPTER XXII. 

DOMENICO AND SALVESTRO. 

ESS satisfactory, if possible, proved the ex- 
amination of Domenico and Salvestro. 
Mentally and physically robust, Domenico 
endured the torture triumphantly. Not a 
word could the examiners extort from him to the 
detriment of Savonarola. Too long and familiarly 
had he known his beloved leader to now believe 
him untrue. As with Savonarola, so now they de- 
sired Domenico to state in writing his confession 
of faith, that it might be published. He complied ; 
and so true, so excellent, was every sentence, that 
the document told only against themselves. Pub- 
lish it they dared not. So they mangled and 
changed it and his confessions, until they made 
them betray friends of Savonarola, a thing to which 
death would have been preferable to Fra Domenico. 
But even then the public must not see it. A few 
manuscript copies, only, were privately circulated. 
The statement began : *' My God and Lord, Jesus 
Christ, knows that I, Fra Domenico, for his sake, 
am not false in anything I now write." Then he 
proceeded to say that both he and Savonarola were 
free from the blood shed in San Marco. The arms 
were brought in and concealed there without their 
knowledge. Referring to the ordeal by fire, he 
affirmed : " I went forth with the utmost delibera- 
tion to pass through the fire, never expecting an 
objection would be raised to my carrying the host. 
I beg that my words may be interpreted according 
to the intention with which they are written." 
(152) 



DOMENICO AND SALVESTRO. 1 53 

Domenico was requested to state in writing his 
opinion of Savonarola. His assent was instant. 
He wrote: '' I have ever fixedly believed, and noth- 
ing has ever caused me to disbelieve, and I do now 
believe, in the prophecies of Savonarola. I have 
steadfastly kept to that faith. Nor ought your ex- 
cellencies to be offended on that account, /<7r this 
belief does no injury to the state. In such matters 
ereryone is free to believe as he zvilH' Now follow 
words so genuine, so affecting, that even at this 
distant day one cannot read them without a feeling 
of agony that such men, or any man, should ever 
have died for opinion's sake. 

"There is nothing more on my mind. If you 
wish to ask me anything else, I will do my best to 
satisfy you. But give credit to all I say, for I have 
ever had a tender conscience. I am quite ready to 
speak as if at the point of death, which may very 
easily be the case, if you continue to torture me, 
for I am already utterly broken down. I pray you 
be merciful and believe in the simple truth I have 
written." Unrelenting, they proceeded with the 
torture, until in his misery, he cried : — 

" I know no more. My whole concern has been 
to lead a life of virtue, and with Jesus Christ as 
king of Florence. You can get nothing more out 
of me. I have nothing more to give." Unmoved, 
they continued the torture. When suffering almost 
unto death, they placed a pen in his hand and he 
heroically wrote: ''God's will be done! I never 
perceived nor had the slightest suspicion that 
Father Hieronymo either deceived or feigned. On 
the contrary, he was ever most upright. He was a 
man of rare nature. I have sometimes said to the 
friars, that if I ever discovered in him the slightest 
error or deception, I would make it public. It is 
most certain I have sometimes declared this to him- 



154 SAVONAROLA. 

self. And this I would now do, did I know there 
is duplicity in him." 

To all this stout-heartedness of Domenico, Sal- 
vestro's weakness presented the greatest contrast. 
To save his life he v/as willing to utter and then 
retract anything; to swear falsely against Savon- 
arola; to disclose the names of his friends. Never- 
theless, some of his confessions established beyond 
doubt Savonarola's innocence. For this reason his 
deposition was placed in Seccone's hands for revis- 
ion, and for additions if need be. 

The monks were led back to their cells. Then 
proceeded the examination of the others under 
arrest. Without an exception, all declared the friar 
to be ''a man wholly devoted to heavenly things." 
But when confronted with Seccone's report of Sa- 
vonarola's denial of his visions and prophecies, the 
surprise and indignation of some knew no bounds. 

Soon after Savonarola's arrest, two friars of San 
Marco were dispatched to Rome with a letter im- 
ploring Alexander's pardon for having harbored 
^Uhat foment er and leader in every error!'' Yet, 
most inconsistently, the letter affirms that *'the 
rectitude of Savonarola's life, the sanctity of his 
habits, the success which attended his efforts to 
reclaim Florence from vice, usury, and every crime, 
had deceived not only themselves, but men of far 
greater genius." Readily the Pope absolved these 
cowardly men. He also addressed to the Floren- 
tine archbishop, and to the Chapter of the Duomo, 
a letter authorizing them " to grant absolution for 
any crime against Savonarola, even were it that of 
murder." In both letters he demanded that Savon- 
arola should receive sentence of death at Rome. 




CHAPTER XXIII. 

SAVONAROLA AND HIS FRIENDS DIE. 



HE two papal commissioners were Turriano, 
General of the Dominican Order, and Fran- 
cesco Romolino, Bishop of Ilerda. As the 
bishops entered Florence on the 19th of 
May, all around them rang the cry: " Let him die!" 
"Death to the friar!" Romolino, surveying the 
crowd, smiled and replied, ''Yes, he will die, sure 
enough." Barely had the commissioners entered 
the apartment assigned to them, when, turning to 
the magistrates present, Romolino said: *' We shall 
make a famous blaze ! I have the sentence already ! " 
The following day these zealous men began the 
investigation. Torture was the initial step. These 
papal messengers exceeded even the Seignory in 
cruelty. The same result was attained — the same 
steady denial of false teaching, of political crimes — 
the same incoherent answers, and, finally, loss of 
reason. Thus passed two days, the bishops learn- 
ing that neither by torment of body, cross-ques- 
tioning, nor distortion of language, could they fix 
upon one point that would legally convict him. 
True, he sometimes promised to recant, but the 
moment torture ceased, he reaffirmed his innocence. 
Once he cried out: *' My God, I denied thee for 
fear of pain!" 

The second day's shame ended, Romolino ordered 
Savonarola to appear next day to receive his sen- 
tence. A little before sunset that evening the bis- 
hops and others convened to consider what this 

(155) 



156 SAVONAROLA. 

sentence should be. Consider? There was not 
one moment's deliberation. Upon Savonarola and 
Salvestro sentence of death was immediately re- 
solved. One of the bishops suggested that Do- 
menico might be spared. *' No," answered his aids, 
"letting him live will perpetuate the doctrines of 
his master." "Then," replied the bishop — Romo- 
lino- — " let him die. One friar, more or less, is of 
small consequence." 

That night, in his cell, each prisoner was in- 
formed of his sentence. Upon each the effect was 
very different. Salvestro was greatly moved. Not 
so was Domenico. To him it was simply glad ti- 
dings. Immediately he wrote the friars of San Marco 
a noble letter, closing with the words: *'Kiss all 
the brethren for me. Collect all the works of Fra 
Girolamo that are in my cell. Get them bound. 
Place one copy in the library, and one in the refec- 
tory, to be read at table; let it be fixed by a chain, 
so that the lay brethren may there sometimes read 
it." So free of all fear was he that, when informed 
that their bodies were to be burned after death, he 
begged to be burned alive, that he might endure 
the painful martyrdom for Jesus Christ's sake. 

When the messenger entered Savonarola's cell, 
he was engaged in prayer. On his knees, he list- 
ened to the reading of the sentence, and manifested 
no emotion. Later, when supper was brought him, 
he declined it, saying, "My mind needs support, 
not my body." Soon after, a Benedictine monk 
entered and performed for him the final rites of the 
church. Barely had he departed, when the tender 
Jacopo Nicolini, clad in black, a black hood drawn 
close about his face, stepped within the cell. In- 
quiring of Savonarola what service he could render 
him, Savonarola begged he would obtain permission 
for himself and his two friends to meet once more, 



SAVONAROLA AND HIS FRIENDS DIE. 1 5/ 

before they suffered. Nicolini quickly consented. 
The Seignory hesitated, but finally offered the 
great hall of the Five Hundred for the meeting. 

It was far into the night when the three came to- 
gether. They had not met since the evening of 
Palm Sunday. They had experienced, forty days 
of confinement and suffering. They looked into 
each other's faces. What inroads had torture 
made upon their features ! They grasped hands 
warmly. Few words were spoken. But one glance 
into the face of Savonarola assured his brethren 
that he had not denied himself. In the old manner 
Savonarola turned to Domenico, and said: "You 
want to be burned alive; but that is wrong. Do 
we yet know with what firmness we shall suffer 
even that to which we are condemned ? That does 
not depend upon ourselves. It will be given us by 
the grace of God." 

Then to Salvestro he gravely said: 'T know that 
you are anxious to declare your innocence before 
the people. I admonish you to lay aside that 
thought, and to follow the example of our Lord 
Jesus Christ, who, even on the cross, would not 
justify himself" 

Before separating, the two friars kneeled before 
their superior, and for the last time received his 
benediction. Then sadly each returned to his cell. 
Savonarola slept some, his head resting on Nico- 
lini's shoulder. Several times a smile lighted up 
his face, showing that his unconscious thoughts 
were not of the morrow. Before dawn he was en- 
gaged in prayer. 

Once more, together, early in the morning, the 
three men partook of the sacrament. As Savona- 
rola raised the host, he prayed, saying : '* Lord, I 
know that thou art that perfect Trinity, invisible, 
distinct. Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. I know 



158 SAVONAROLA. 

thou art the Eternal Word ; that thou didst descend 
from heaven ; that thou didst hang upon the cross 
to shed thy blood for our sins. I pray thee, that by 
that blood I may have remission of my sins, thy 
forgiveness for every offense against this city, for 
every sin of which I have, unconsciously, been 
guilty." 

Almost immediately they were informed that the 
executioners were ready. 

On the marble terrace, almost in the shadow of 
the great Duomo, stood three imposing tribunals, 
one to be occupied by the bishop who w^as to de- 
grade the prisoners, another by the papal commis- 
sioners, the third by the Council of Eight, which 
was to pronounce the sentence of death. In front 
of these, on the very spot where but a short time 
before had blazed the vast bonfire of vanities, ex- 
actly where the ordeal by fire was to have taken 
place, extended a long, narrow platform out upon 
the plaza. At its end was erected an upright stake 
with a long cross-bar near the top, upon which 
the prisoners were to be suspended. At the foot 
of this cross lay an enormous pile of combustible 
material, ready for the ceremony of burning. Not 
until ten o'clock did Savonarola and his friends 
enter the scene. At the foot of the stairs of the 
palazzo publico, a Dominican monk removed the 
garments of their order. Not expecting this, and 
deeply moved, Savonarola exclaimed as he laid his 
robe in the hand of the man : " O holy robe! how 
much I have loved thee ! Thou wast granted to 
me by the grace of God. To this hour I have pre- 
served thee stainless. Now thou art taken from 
me. I do not give thee up." 

In thin woolen garments, with feet bare and 
hands fastened behind them, they passed on to 
the first tribuna*l. There sat the Bishop of Va- 



SAVONAROLA AND HIS FRIENDS DIE. I5g 

sona, once the pupil and friend of Savonarola. 
Taking his former teacher by the arm, the miser- 
able bishop said, forgetting in his agitation the pre- 
scribed form of words, ** I separate thee from the 
church militant and triumphant." *' Militant, not 
triumphant,'' corrected Savonarola, steadfast in his 
hope, even in that darkest hour. 

At the second tribunal the victims were delivered 
by the papal commissioners into the hand of the 
secular power, and so passed on to where stood 
Dolfo Spini as one of the Council of Eight. The 
sentence of death having been read, the monks with 
firm step walked along that narrow way, which 
ended at the ghastly cross-bar. ** Yells of execra- 
tion, cries as from throats thirsting for blood," rose 
around them as they neared the end. Even timid 
Salvestro was now full of courage. Domenico fol- 
lowed him, chanting the Te Deum. Then came 
Savonarola. To words of comfort offered him by 
a few among the dense ranks, he replied, " In the 
hour of death God alone can give comfort." To 
one who specially inquired what supported him in 
that last mortal hour, he ansv/ered, *' Our Lord 
suffered as much for me." These were his last 
words before he reached the scaffold. 

Salvestro first yielded up his life, saying, ** Into 
thy hands I commit my spirit." Then Domenico 
stepped forward, his face beaming with joyful hope, 
and was suspended at the other end of the cross-bar. 
Before Savonarola's moment came, he took one 
long, steady look at the greedy multitude. Day 
after day in the great Duomo, hundreds of them 
had heard the gospel message from his lips. One 
can almost see his thoughts as he surveyed them. 
Where was the fruit of all his earnest teaching of 
righteousness ? Was his beloved Florence any bet- 
ter for his having lived in it? Had truth taken 
any hold ? 



l60 SAVONAROLA. 

His hour having come, with great con^posure he 
''committed his soul to Christ," and placed himself 
in the hands of the executioner. 

Their lives ended, the pile was lighted, and at dusk 
the ashes of the martyrs were gathered up, carried 
to the Ponte Vecchio, and thrown into the Arno. 
But before this last step, many of the devoted Piag- 
noni — among them several women of high rank, 
disguised as servants — made their way to the ever- 
to-be-memorable spot, and gathered up some of the 
ashes of Savonarola, who suffered May 23, 1498, 
four months before he had reached forty-seven 
years. Thus was the one great light of the fifteenth 
century suddenly extinguished, leaving Europe in 
great moral darkness until Martin Luther appeared 
on the scene. 




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